


Mother Tongue

by eievuiisms



Series: Another Way verse [1]
Category: Sam & Max
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Bilingual Character(s), Coming of Age, Historical Fantasy, Multilingual Character, Other, canon's a guideline but otherwise ignored, will add tags as i progress
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-19
Updated: 2021-01-07
Packaged: 2021-03-01 04:40:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 28,034
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23219389
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eievuiisms/pseuds/eievuiisms
Summary: After a tragic incident in his family, Maximus Conejo stows away to America in hopes of finding a new life. There, he meets Sameth Eisenhowler - someone who, unbeknownst to him, was going to be his friend of a lifetime.(Special credit to calliepeepers for co-writing the AU & beta reading!!)(Rated Mature for heavy/sensitive subject matter)
Series: Another Way verse [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1871665
Comments: 12
Kudos: 56





	1. The Boat From Chile

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maximus' life has been rough, but simple. Little does he know, it's about to get a whole lot more complicated.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Because the story starts in Chile, all the characters are Spanish speakers. For simplicity, all of their dialogue is put in brackets & translated to English. In future chapters, it will not be translated.

The front door of the brick home creaked loudly on its partially broken hinges as the lagomorph entered, even despite his effort to open it as quietly as possible. It was dark outside, which left him reaching out semi-blindly with one hand to make sure he was not about to bump into something. The other hand was busy gripping the base of his left ear. After shutting the door slowly behind him, he lifted his feet on his tip-toes as to avoid making as much noise when he walked (his feet always slapped against concrete floor when he walked flat-footed), and took tiny steps as to avoid tripping over anything. He felt along the wall carefully, keeping his breaths even despite being out of breath not too long ago.

“(There you are!)” a female voice whispered, both parts relieved and exasperated. He exhaled lightly in an annoyed sigh. “(I heard that. Don’t huff at me.)” He heard her approaching him, and could just barely make her out once she got close enough. “(Why are you holding your ear?)”

“(Don’t worry about it,)” he muttered, taking a half-step back.

“(Like hell,)” came the reply, sharp despite the lowered volume.

With no warning, she reached out and - before he could duck away - grabbed his hand, prying his hand away from his ear, making him hiss between his unusually sharp teeth. “(Watch it-!)”

“(Good God, Maximus, you’re bleeding!)”

“(Don’t worry about it!)”

“(Stop saying that. By God, is one ear damaged not enough for you!? No, shut up, don’t even speak, just come here-)” Maximus soon felt a tight grip on his arm as he was yanked forward, urgency clear in her actions.

The girl was not his mother, but his cousin Josefa. She was younger than he was, actually, by a year, but she was just as responsible for the well being of the seven other younger children in their home as he was - and more responsible than any of the adults, who were more likely to be passed out drunk than actually sleeping.

She pulled out a chair at their table far too tiny for the family they had, and made sure he sat down before leaving him there to grab something. The wound on his ear - a bite mark - was beginning to feel warm as it bled, and he wrapped his hand back around it to keep pressure on it. He only removed it when he heard her returning, the scent of freshly poured alcohol hitting and burning his nose at once. She applied a damp rag to the injury, and he cussed at the pain that shot through his ear.

“(Don’t complain,)” she muttered, and he clamped his mouth shut. They both remained silent as his cousin dabbed at the bite mark, cleaning the blood from it as best she could in the dark. “(I don’t have any bandages.)”

“(This’ll do,)” he replied.

She sighed through her nose, but it was patient, and soon she was removing the rag. “(What even happened?)” There was the sound of her pulling a chair over to take a seat herself. “(Were you caught again?)”

“(Something like that. Actually, no, nothing like that. I got stolen from by some other scumbag. I tried to get it back, but…)”

She hummed sympathetically.

“(I still have this.)” He dug into the makeshift pocket of his sweater that he had messily sewed on himself with one hand and reached for one of hers with the other, turning her palm upwards. He then handed her a small chunk of bread, clearly wrenched off from the rest of the loaf. “(It’s not much, and it’s stale, but it’s still good.)” His tone was apologetic.

His cousin huffed. “(How many times must I tell you to keep your head up, you fool? You’re doing more than you should, you know that.)”

He opened his mouth to reply, then - after a pause - closed it and nodded, then, figuring she might not have seen, murmured, “(Yeah.)”

“(...Have you eaten yet today?)”

“(You can have it.)”

“(Oh, for God’s sake-)” There was the sound of crunching, and shortly after he had roughly half of the bread shoved into his hands.

“(No, you can have it-)” He attempted to hand it back, but he could just make out her shaking her head in the dark. “(Josefa-)”

“(Uh-uh, not a chance. I know you’d starve yourself if I let you, but I won’t. _Eat_.)”

He frowned, but did not argue because he could not deny it - both the statement and the fact that he was actually hungry. He took a bite - the bread was bland and damn near as tough as a rock, though it was far easier for him to chew through than her, no doubt. When he swallowed, he spoke again. “(This will change soon enough. Soon I won’t have to steal to get by.)”

“(No, you’ll just be risking your life in the mines instead.)”

“(Oh, come on, don’t be so negative.)”

She gave a short, bitter laugh. “(‘Negative’. I’m not being negative, Maximus, I’m being _realistic_. Those mines change people. They go in, and it’s like their souls have been sucked out. They’re just shells. I’ve seen it happen to my brother, we’ve seen it happen to Matias-)” Referring to their youngest uncle, “(-And I know the exact same will happen to you, too.)”

“(Thanks,)” he said sarcastically, obviously not appreciating what she was saying. Him working was inevitable - always had been - so there was no point in thinking this way.

“(Be honest with yourself - do you even _want_ to work in those mines?)”

He went silent, his frown deepening, his brows furrowing. “(...It’s not about what I want,)” he answered eventually, “(It’s about what’s good for the family.)”

“(I’ll take that as a no, then.)” He gave no response, and she gave a sigh. “(...Thank you for the food. I’m going to lay down. You should do the same.)”

“(Good night, Josefa,)” was all he replied.

There was a pause, and he could sense her considering saying something, but she must have decided against it, because there was the sound of the chair being pushed back and her walking away. A minute later, and there was the sound of the women’s bedroom door opening and shutting.

He leaned back in his chair and exhaled, staring up towards the ceiling before turning his attention towards the cracked window. Despite the stiff and aching feeling in his limbs from the scuffle he had gotten into earlier, he found it in himself to get up and go over to the window, open it up (with a touch of force necessary), and sit on the ledge of it, one foot dangling on the outside of it. The roof to their home hung low, so he was able to reach the edge of it, and - with a small grunt - pulled himself up onto it. He slowly climbed up it until he was at the very peak, swinging his legs over and bringing his knees up to his chest, resting his arms atop them.

The air was humid - a tell tale sign that he would wake up to rain, no doubt. And while he was annoyed by the possibility of being hindered in providing for his family (he would not have even have to worry if he had have been more _careful_ earlier that day), he was glad for it in a way, too. Rain meant the washing away of the powdered snow that dusted the ground. It meant it was nearing the end of winter. And at the end of this winter, it would mean him turning eighteen and beginning to work in the mines that many family members currently worked. It would be nice, to finally be able to actually contribute legitimately.

Josefa was right, though - he did not actually _want_ to go to those mines. Work, yes - he wanted to work - but just not there. They were dark, and damp, and the conditions were poor, and the hours long, and the chances of dying in there were…

He shook his head, brows furrowing. Damn his insolent cousin, putting this rotten seed of thought in his head. Pointless. Unhelpful. It could not be avoided, so he was better off putting the fear out of his head.

...It was late, and exhaustion was starting to creep up on him. Maybe he should head to bed after all.

He slipped back in through the window, shutting it behind him with a loud _clack_ , which made him pause and twitch his ear in the direction of the bedrooms. No sound. He slowly backed away from it, eyeing it for another moment as if he was prepared for it to make another noise. It did not. Content, he headed down the hall and towards his room. His room, and the room for all the other men in the home, which were crammed on the bed and on the floor, the stench of spirits and dried sweat making him scrunch up his nose in disgust. He crept over to his spot next to his youngest brother Felipe - who was no older than five - and carefully lowered himself to the floor, lying down under the thin, scratchy blanket.

Felipe stirred, his nose twitching, which made the teen freeze, hoping he had not woken his brother. The kit, however - having sensed the extra body and thus another means of keeping warm - turned over in his sleep, reaching a tiny paw out. Maximus relaxed, and delicately extended his arm, reaching over him before pulling him closer. The young rabbit responded by nuzzling his face into the fabric of his sweater. A slight smile tugged at Maximus’ lips, and presently, he shut his eyes.

. . .

As Maximus had predicted, the rain fell the next morning, melting the snow and soaking deep into the ground, leaving the sky grey and dull. He would have considered staying indoors, helping with the children while the women of the house tended to their other errands - _preferred_ it, actually - but he was needed outside that morning, it seemed.

“(See if you can’t get us some matches, boy,)” said his mother, who was about as warm as a winter’s breeze, “(And get something to help your damned uncle with his damned leg-)” Maximus’ gaze flickered briefly towards Josefa at the sink - since the aforementioned uncle was her father, who had gotten harmed in the mines - and notice her turn her attention with a look of anger at once. “(-Sick of him lying useless in bed - if he isn’t going to work, he could at least be up and walking like the rest of us.)”

“(Yes, ma’am,)” was the only response he gave - indifferent, monotone - and promptly turned away just as Josefa began complaining to his mother. He grabbed an old blanket to shield himself from the rain, and exited through the front door, shutting it just in time to muffle the beginning of the yelling match between his mother and cousin.

He walked along his tip toes - as to keep from getting his white fur completely covered with mud - and kept one hand clutching at the blanket to keep it on, though it was rapidly getting soaked through. Matches would be easy to find - a walking stick he would veto and lie saying he could not find one. Josefa had not seemed to appreciate his mother trying to force his uncle to work on a poor leg, Maximus did not personally agree and besides - he sure as hell was not planning on stealing one of those, not so long as God was his witness.

Maximus continued through the town he had lived in all his life, which was fairly inactive at this hour. There were some others out and tending to their personal business - trading amongst each other, waiting in front of the company store - but other than that, there was not much going on. And, frankly, he preferred it that way - less eyes, and less nosy people. Well, _usually_ less nosy.

“(Hey, chomps.)” Maximus immediately paused in his step to shoot an annoyed look towards the boy who spoke, who was sitting in the doorless entryway, puffing smoke and smelling strongly like tobacco. The boy ignored the annoyed look, and seemingly waited for a greeting in return.

“(Martín,)” the lagomorph replied, his tone flat, then - deciding to be cheeky - asked, “(How’s the hand?)”

Martín, who was roughly his age and whom he had scrapped with on several occasions growing up, merely gave a smile which revealed some missing teeth. He lifted his left hand, which had a clear scar that cured along the palm, and wagged his fingers. “(Still attached.)”

Maximus grunted.

Martín lowered his hand and sniffed. “(You’re out early.)”

“(I’m out on an errand.)”

“(What for?)” he asked, quirking a brow.

Maximus eyed him hesitantly, but Martín’s expression seemed void of any sort of mockery. “(...Matches.)”

“(In this weather?)”

“(It’s for cooking. Or maybe boiling the water. I never ask.)”

The human teen puffed a breath of smoke, then wordlessly stood up and went inside his house. Maximus gave an annoyed huff at being left to wait in the rain, but kept his patience. Although Martín was a bastard and a moron in his eyes, he was reasonable when he wanted to be, too - for every fight they had, there were just as many trades that took place. If Maximus had thought of it, he would have brought something worth giving away with him.

His dark eyes wandered as he waited, looking downwards and towards the distant coast of his home where the land ended and the wide, endless waters began. There was fog surrounding it - there typically was on rainy days such as this - but he noticed there was a large shadow within it. He squinted his eyes in an attempt to identify it, but there was too much in the way of weather, which left his view obscured.

His ears picked up the sound of shuffling from inside, and turned his attention back in time for Martín to return, matches in the palm of his undamaged hand. “(It’s not many. Between me and my hag of a grandmother, you know?)”

“(This’ll do.)” He tried to reach for them, but Martín pulled away the last second. Maximus gave an annoyed sigh towards himself at realizing his error. “(I can run home-)”

“(No - God, relax, chomps, would you? It’s not that. Just...matches don’t work if they’re wet, right?)”

Maximus shrugged, making a noise that seemed uncertain. “(I’d guess. But my mother’s waiting.)”

“(Nah - who cares? Don’t be stupid. Here, come in. I’ll try to find something…)”

Usually he would have been reluctant to enter - and no doubt Martín would be reluctant to invite him in - but it was wet, and the blanket was soaking him rather than protecting him from getting soaked, so Maximus entered without much of a second thought, and Martín turned his back without much skepticism. The lagomorph removed the blanket from his person, and feeling slightly guilty by the idea of placing it, sopping, on the floor but having nowhere else appropriate to place it, he decided to at least fold it before placing it next to the door.

There were no real means to dry off, but it was at least warmer than it was outside. Walking in a little ways, Maximus could spot Martín’s grandmother asleep and snoring in a chair in the corner. And thank God for it - he had only heard the lady once while passing by, and from what he could hear of her shrill voice and the unmistakable sound of someone being slapped, it was for the better he avoid speaking to her if possible.

He found himself going to the tiny window, which - with weather like this - did little to light the room, and peered out of it at the shape in the fog again.

“(I don’t know if this’ll help, but-)” Martín spoke, making Maximus flinch and turn to face him quickly, while carrying a cloth that was folded over several times. Having noticed the Maximus’ reaction, he asked, “(What are you looking at?)”

Maximus blinked, taking a moment to let the surprise subside and process the inquiry. “(There’s something out there.)”

“(Eh?)” The teen walked over, and whereas Maximus had to go on his tip-toes to peer out (being as short as he was was a pain in the ass), Martín had to lean down some. “(Oh, the boat. You haven’t seen it come by yet?)” Maximus shook his head. “(Been coming at the end of each month for the past three. I think,)” he added in a mutter.

“(What are they for?)” Maximus asked, genuinely curious. He had not noticed any boats coming by at _all_ in the past few months.

“(I don’t know. Doubt it’s for travel. It ain’t from here, either.)”

The lagomorph looked up at him, canting his head and raising a brow. “(Where then?)”

“(Hell if I know. You think I know anything?)”

“(Fair point.)”

Martín laughed, earning a sharp-toothed smirk from the other teen. “(You’re a bastard. Here, take this, you asshole.)” He handed Maximus the cloth, which assumedly had the matches wrapped within. “(Don’t bother giving me anything. It’s not even worth it.)”

“(Fine by me.)” He placed the cloth in his sweater pocket, hoping it was thick enough to keep the matches from getting wet.

“(Frankly,)” Martín spoke, making him look up. “(I’d take off on one of those boats.)”

Maximus was surprised by the statement, but recovered quickly, a neutral expression replacing his surprise. “(You’d get caught.)”

Martín shrugged. “(Probably. Besides, I’m not stupid enough to leave.)

“(What makes you say that?)”

“(Well, I don’t know where it goes. I wouldn’t know what they’re saying, probably. No place to live. Not to mention, I’m dumb as hell - that’s just a fact.)”

“(Right,)” Maximus replied earnestly, understanding what he meant. There was not exactly a form of education present in their area - everyone around there knew basic life skills (and barely even that, for some). “(So leaving would be pointless,)” he deduced.

Martín shrugged. “(It wouldn’t be smart.)”

He merely nodded. “(...I should go back. Mama’s probably pissed already.)”

“(Hey, say hi to your cousin for me.)”

“(Eat my ass.)”

The lagomorph retrieved his blanket - still soaked - and slung it around himself once more and exited the home and entered the rain once more. He paused when he was outside at the sound of a horn, and looked back towards the coast. The boat was still there, but it was clearly beginning to depart. He watched for a moment longer, before turning away and starting his brief journey back home.

. . .

As the days continued on, his birthday drew nearer. The weather was gradually growing more pleasant in the passing weeks - the clouds were clearing the rain slowly subsided and left room for the sun to shine through. Maximus was more likely to be found outdoors, having been cooped up inside the house for the past short while. He was mildly disappointed by his pickings, but not ungrateful - they were more plentiful, at least, and he had had little incident in gaining them. Before long, it was approximately four days prior to the day he would turn eighteen.

The heat was leaning towards harsh, so he had decided to wait until he was under the cover of cool night. Besides - he would be lying terribly if he said he had not been missing the company of his younger siblings and cousins.

“(Hey! Watch the head!)” Maximus exclaimed after having a ball - cheaply made, with threads poking out of it - nearly come at his head, making him duck at the last second.

His ten-year-old cousin Pablo laughed, saying between giggles, “(Sorry!)”

Maximus gave a huff, though it was amused, and went to pick up the ball. As soon as it was in his hands, he had two younger rabbits climbing onto his back. “(Hey!)” he said with a laugh, extending his arms to keep the ball away from their grabbing hands. “(You little bugs, get o-)” He was interrupted when Pablo came and snatched the ball out of his hands, and at once those younger rabbits hopped off to go pursue the ball, the eldest of them watching with all the amusement and joy in the world.

“(They have more fun with you than they do me, eh?)” Josefa said out the open kitchen window, humour in her tone.

“(Don’t be jealous,)” he joked back, “(Can’t help it if _I’m_ fun!)”

She merely smiled back, and he turned to the children to call for the ball, thus missing Josefa turning her head suddenly, frowning and abandoning the window.

“(Watch this,)” Maximus said to his younger relatives. He was kicking the ball so that it was not touching the ground, using one foot before proceeding to try and switch between feet. The result was that he kicked it too hard upwards and got it stuck in the branches of a leafless tree. “(Ah,)” he said flatly, the kids laughing behind him. “(Hang on, I got it-)” He jogged towards the tree before proceeding to start scaling up it. He heard the faint murmur of Josefa’s voice, but did not pay it any notice as he batted at the branch, eventually knocking the ball free. There was a look of pride and triumph on his face as he climbed back down, noticing only after putting his feet on the ground that the children had vanished.

“(Maximus.)” His ears perked forward, and he turned to look at Josefa once more, who had a solemn expression on her features, the fur under her eyes wet. She merely nodded to the right - _come inside_.

Something deep in the pit of his stomach twisted - he knew that look. He had seen that exact expression before, and he knew at once someone was dead. He hesitated, his feet feeling as if they were being weighed down by lead - forcing himself to take even a single step felt like trudging through waist-high water. He slowly walked around the house and entered through the front doorway, which he only just barely noticed had been left open.

The very first thing he heard was Felipe crying loudly, which squeezed his heart tightly (to him, there was no sound more painful than the crying of a child). He eventually found his family gathered in one room, all of which looked saddened. Josefa had her head down, and his youngest brother was clutching to his mother’s arm, while his mother herself seemed completely blank, as if she was completely oblivious to the world around her, let alone to her own child seeking her comfort.

In the center of this gathering was a man Maximus might have seen but never spoken to, and certainly did not know the name of. However, the man apparently knew his. “(You are Maximus Conejo? Cristobal’s son?)”

Maximus could merely look up and blink at him at first, feeling as if though the squeeze on his heart was growing tighter and tighter. “(Yes,)” he said eventually, monotone.

The man gave a somber nod, looking at him. It took Maximus to realize everyone had been sitting, and the man was expecting him to do the same. He probably should have, but he did not. And the man must have seen that he was not going to, because he continued, “(I regret to inform you, your father has been killed.)”

There was a muffled sob from one of his aunts at the word ‘killed’ - _killed_. A lump built up in his throat - he swallowed it. “(Killed?)” Maximus repeated, his tone not reflecting the question of the word.

“(It happened this morning,)” the man started explaining, but his voice seemed to fade, growing more distant - or maybe Maximus was the one becoming distant. He heard the word, he understood them, but everything that was said sounded muffled, as if someone had shove cotton directly into her ears, his surroundings merging into a blur of dull colours.

What the man was saying was too horrible to repeat, too brutal to even _think_ \- and yet this was the terrible reality he was being confronted with. He said nothing, he stared at nothing, and he felt _everything_. In the end, he heard the man murmur something apologetically, and felt a light hand on his shoulder that came and went as the man walked past him. There was the muffled sound of sobbing, of a child crying, which only seemed to be slowly drowned out by a ringing in his ears-

“(Hey,)” he vaguely heard his uncle - Josefa’s father - say quietly in his rough voice, feeling a hand on his back. He might have turned his head to look at him, but all he saw was a blur of greys. “(Come. Sit, boy.)” He obeyed thoughtlessly, moving slowly and finding himself seated next to his mother.

There was suddenly a weight to his arm, the sound of pitiful whimpers meeting his scarred ears and making them twitch. He blinked slowly, hot tears trailing down his cheeks, hearing and vision regaining their clarity, and looking down, he had seen Felipe - who had scrambled across his unresponsive mother’s lap - clutching to him instead, face buried in the sleeve of his sweater and tiny form shaking with quieter, but just as heartbroken sobs. Blinking again to clear the tears from his eyes, Maximus reached over, gently lifting his youngest brother into his lap. The kit moved to wrap his arms around his neck, and in turn he wrapped both arms and embraced him tightly.

And so the family sat in that small room, huddled together, silent, and grieving.

. . .

His family was lost. They were quiet, and they went about their routine, but Maximus could see it in their eyes that they were lost. And he could not deny it, he was lost too. Prior to his father’s abrupt death, things had seemed simple enough. He was going to turn eighteen, he was going to work, he was going to help his family. Now he was not so sure about that future. He had been fearful of the idea of working in the mines, but he had forced it down because it was pointless to be afraid, because working was inevitable. Now he could not ignore it, and now he was questioning the true inevitability of it.

There was nothing stating he _absolutely_ had to work there, nothing beyond the expectations of his own family. But the options for work were so limited in the area. Maybe he could find some place where work was more diverse. If he walked far enough, there was a railway he could travel by. There was always that boat he saw at Martín’s, but that would come and go at the end of the month, which seemed too quick. And yet, at the same time, it felt far away as well…

His feelings were mixed, complicated, and he disliked it strongly. His heart told him to stay, not to be selfish - his family needed him more than ever, and they would never forgive him if he decided to run now - and he would never forgive himself, either!

His gut was telling him he was going to die if he stayed.

In the days leading up to his eighteenth - a day that he now felt a heavy dread just thinking about it - he silently considered and weighed his options, and spoke of them to no one. He gathered food for his family, and - for the first time ever in his life - he stashed some away for himself with guilt weighing heavy in his heart. There was a part of the wall outside where the bricks came loose and formed a hole - he hid his stash in the hole. He hid his clothes in there. He stole someone’s makeshift rucksack - something that he would not have taken otherwise, because he could see that care was put into its creation and surely it must have held some sentimental value to its original owner - and in the dark, he placed what he had into it.

By this time, it was the night before his birthday. He entered his home, more cautious than he had ever been. He left the rucksack by the door in the shadows. He retrieved some water that had been boiled. He retrieved some matches. He went to place those in the bag too.

“(Maximus.)”

His breath hitched, his body tensing as he remained knelt in front of the bag. Eventually, he slowly stood up straight and turned to face Josefa. He could not see her face in the dark, and her tone had been monotone. “(...Josefa.)” He attempted to match her tone, but a hint of nervousness crept in.

She did not move. “(You’re leaving, aren’t you.)”

He opened his mouth in shock, eyes widening. He closed it and swallowed. “(...How-)”

“(I could see it,)” she interrupted, making his ears pin back. “(No one else noticed, but I know when you’re acting weird.)”

Maximus went silent, his heart pounding hard in his chest. This was wrong. This was not right. “(God, I-)” he stammered, “(Josefa, I’m- I’m sorry. I don’t know what’s gotten into me-)”

“(Maximus.)” He stopped. She stepped forward - and in the dark, she could see her face just enough to see that there was no anger. There was sadness - but there was sympathy, too. “(I’m not surprised,)” she said. “(I always had a feeling you would take off one of these days.)”

Maximus was taken aback - _offended_ even. “(Do you think I’m a coward?)”

“(I think you’re smart.)”

Martín’s words came to mind at once, and he frowned, slowly shaking his head. “(No. This isn’t smart. This is stupid-)”

“(It isn’t. Don’t be an idiot - of course it’s not.)”

His brows furrowed, and he averted his gaze, silent. When he looked back at her, his eyes were watering. “(Tell me to stay,)” he quietly begged. “(Tell me that I’m needed here. Tell me I won’t survive out there alone. Tell me not to go.)”

The response she gave, though whispered, was to-the-point, deadpan; “(Why would I lie to you?)”

“(Josefa-)”

“(You’ll die if you stay here. You know that.)” He looked away again - he did know that. “(And I don’t want to hurt your feelings,)” she continued, approaching him and lifting his chin up with a hand, “(But you’re not as needed as you may think. If you left now, it’d make no difference to the rest of the family. It’s not as if we haven’t had deaths and runaways before, Maximus.)”

There was a painful _pang_ in his chest, tears spilling forward. The pain came from the harsh words, and at the word _runaway_ . That was what he was doing, was he not? Running away? _Like a coward_ , he mentally insisted, despite Josefa stating otherwise. “(But the kids- Felipe- _they_ need me-)”

“(They need you alive.)” He lowered his gaze - and the hand on his chin lifted upwards again. “(Look at me, Maximus.)”

He hesitated - he did not want to - but he slowly lifted his gaze, dark eyes blinking. Josefa looked at him, then opened her mouth, and said, in the smallest of whispers that still sounded so _loud_ in his ears;

“(Go.)”

As soon as the word was uttered, Maximus’ body shook with a sob, his jaw clenched in an attempt to hold it back. He pulled her towards him, embracing her tightly, knowing that once he let her go, he would be leaving for a very long time. “(Not forever,)” he mumbled. “(I won’t be gone forever. I’ll come back, and- and when I do, I’ll-)”

“(Shush,)” she hushed gently. “(One step at a time, Maximus.)”

“(...I don’t want to let go.)”

“(You have to.)”

After a few lingering moments, he found his arms loosening gradually, and eventually he took a step back. He could see the tears trailing down Josefa’s cheeks, and could see that she was refusing to wipe them away, as if she did not want even the slightest action to make him change his mind. Slowly, as if every bone, every muscle in his body was trying to _resist_ his next actions, he scooped up the rucksack, hooking the short strap over his shoulder. He reached for the knob and turned it, swinging open the door. He paused then, doubt creeping into his mind once more, and he turned to look at his younger cousin again - only to find that she had already left.

Finally, he turned and exited the house, shutting the squeaky door on its partially broken hinges quietly.

. . .

The boat did not arrive until a few days later after he finally turned eighteen (and a lonely day that way, truly - no celebration, no pleasant wishes. Just a bleak day that came and went without a second thought) - and those few days felt excruciating. More times than once he had wondered if maybe he had missed it, although he had heard confirmation from the locals that it had not come for the month yet - and triple as many times as that, he doubted his decision. He could still turn back. He could still turn around, and beg for forgiveness, and work in the mines as he was supposed to, and…

Pointless, he told himself. He put himself there - he was going to have to commit to it now.

He had been resting against the back of a wooden building, eyes shut though he was not actually asleep, when the distant horn met his drooped ears, making them perk up, his eyes opening and head snapping up. There was not fog or rain in the way, unlike the last time the boat had been near, and he could see clearly the large black boat approaching. He checked his rucksack to make sure his things were in order before getting to his feet and removing himself from the spot he had been resting at.

He had carefully thought over how he was going to go about all of this - it obviously was not a boat intended for passengers, and getting caught meant losing his chance to get out of Chile or worse. Thankfully, he had years of practice in the art of stealth - he knew how he could get on without getting himself caught. It was just a matter of actually being able to execute it.

As the boat was slowly pulling up towards the coast, he made sure to watch from a distance, as to not come across as suspicious. There were Chilean men with crates waiting. So the boat was to pick up resources from _them_. That was good - that guaranteed places for Maximus to hide once he got on there.

When the boat finally pulled in, and several men - both from on the boat and the ones that had been waiting - began working to load the crates onto there, Maximus pulled over a dark blanket over himself as to hide his white fur. He waited patiently, crouched down, for several minutes, making sure to keep an eye on each man there, noting where he was positioned and where he was looking.

The moment he saw an opportunity, he bolted up into the ship.

He had intended to hide behind the furthest crates if possible - since he would be less likely to be caught - but upon hearing voices, he found himself nearly stumbling to stop himself and switch directions, finding himself hop over some crates and painfully landing on top of the ones behind it, having to cover his mouth to keep himself from groaning out loud

“Ah heard somethin’ comin’ fae over here.” The sound of a male’s voice made the lagomorph freeze, clamping his hands more tightly over his mouth. He did not understand what he was saying, but his voice had been way too close for comfort.

“Well, I didn’ ‘ear nothin’,” replied another man, his tone deadpan.

“That’s ‘cause yer deaf, ye dolton.”

“‘Ey, wha’ever.” There was the sound of boots against wood as one of the men was walking away. Maximus continued to remain still, ears alert. There was the sound of more boots walking, slowly, towards the crates he was hiding behind. His muscles tensed - he was too vulnerable, the man was going to find him, and then-

“Stinky!” that other man, further away, called. “Stop lollygaggin’.”

The sailor that had been approaching the crates grunted, but soon he was walking away too, and once he was far enough away, Maximus sighed in relief. Too close. _Way_ too close.

There was a tiny space between the crate he was on and the one next to it, and though it took a lot of effort and a lot of starting and stopping as other men passed through (thankfully walking right past his hiding spot), he managed to push the crates enough to crate a space that he could just squeeze himself in. Not useful for running away if someone caught him there, but the less space he took up, the better.

How much time had passed was completely beyond him, but eventually he heard the voices of men yelling - ordering each other, it sounded like - and some time later, there was the sound of the horn.

And thus began his journey away from the home he had always lived in and always known, and to somewhere completely unknown to him.


	2. A Stranger In A Strange City

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maximus has a rough start in this new country. Thankfully, he finds someone willing to assist him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> important note: i am not fluent in spanish by any means - in fact, i'm very new to it - & while i have tried my hardest to translate it as accurately as i could, ultimately i can't be 100% sure. if you are fluent in spanish/a native spanish speaker & see something that's incorrect, please tell me!! i will gladly make the corrections & will thank you greatly for educating me!!
> 
> because there is a lot of spanish used, i have decided to offer the google doc below for anyone who wishes to see the translations of what is being said:  
> https://docs.google.com/document/d/1LTwBOYvjMxh68kedfTfj9jVohThCB2_pspXF4DbZqxk/edit?usp=sharing
> 
> please enjoy the chapter, & thank you for reading
> 
> EDIT; special thank you/shoutout to OtomoZhinee for helping with some of the spanish!! it means a lot ^v^

The boat journey was long and very, very miserable. His muscles were stiff, and his limbs were cramped, from the hiding spot he had chosen. While he did occasionally climb out to stretch his limbs, he did it sparingly, meaning he easily spent more time in that small space than out of it. The first portion of the trip he had spent incredibly nauseous and fighting the need to vomit (and, at least twice, losing that fight).

How much time had passed from when he had first snuck in was mostly lost on him. The only thing he had to go by was whenever the men on the ship went quiet, which he could only assume was when they slept. It crossed his mind twice to sneak away to find food while they slept - but both times he ultimately came to the conclusion that being tossed overboard was not a fate he was willing to face, and so he kept to his hiding spot.

Maximus found it near impossible to sleep on the boat. Instead, he was more in a half awake state, ears twitching with a certain alertness in case someone came near. Thankfully, the men rarely came in - they were a lot more inattentive to their cargo than Maximus would have expected, but he certainly was not complaining.

After what may as well have been an eternity, his damaged ears straightened at the sound of the ship’s horn, sitting up straight at once, and gathering his things to take off before he was spotted.

Sneaking off had been surprisingly easier than sneaking on - though, at the last moment, he had made eye contact with a man with a beard, who attempted to get the attention of his fellow men with no success, and Maximus slipped away quickly without much further incident, a feeling of triumph swelling in his chest.

He eventually slowed to a stop after he turned a corner about five minutes later. He panted, looking over his shoulder to be sure that he was not being pursued, then looked forward - and found himself looking upwards, his eyes widening. What he was looking at was the size of some of the buildings that he was close to approaching, the red brick (a dark yellow colour, with his colour blind eyes) being what had drawn his gaze to it in the first place. They made the buildings back at home seem tiny and dingy in comparison.

As he continued on, he began to feel uncomfortably hot, and was forced to remove his cover and put it in the rucksack. He could tell that the weather, whatever it was like, certainly was not the same as back at home. With the sun shining bright even as it had just risen, it felt as though the winter had been over months ago in this place...wherever it was. He was beginning to realize he had not even the slightest clue. Perhaps he should ask? There were passersby - which, their outfits surprised him as well. Men and women alike seemed to be dressed very...proper. _Fancy_ was the word he thought of. He became aware, then, of how he must have looked in comparison - wearing these dirty rags, and his torn and bitten ears and his tail that had some fur ripped from it - and for the first time, he almost felt self-conscious of his appearance. Surely he seemed out of place among these people.

He shied away from the idea of asking. Besides, if any of them were anything like the sailors, then he would not understand a word they were saying anyway. He supposed he would just have to figure out how to navigate the area by himself. It was not as if getting lost was a problem - after all, there was no set place for him to stay, now.

Maximus shook his head at the thought at once. _Pointless_. It was not as if he could turn around and take a boat back - especially not after one of the men had seen his face. The only way to deal with this now was to suck it up and move forward. So, with an inhale through his nose, he decided to continue forward, eventually disappearing into this new city.

. . .

In the less busy, more quiet and more _run-down_ part of town, there was a pretty shabby Cafe-esque place that served bitter coffee and bland biscuits that crumbled too easily. And outside, at a tiny, rusted table and a worn out chair, sat a dog dressed in clothing that appeared far too lavish for a place as meager as that, who lightly tapped a finger against the table’s chipped surface, staring out at the empty street in thought with a half-empty glass of water and one of those tasteless biscuits, untouched. 

His name was Sameth Eisenhowler, and he had just arrived in Brooklyn not even a whole hour ago. He was not yet at his desired location, but it was evening, and the idea of travelling in the dark was not an idea he was fond of. He intended to find a place to stay for the night - but first stopped by this shop for at least something to eat and drink, taking a seat and placing his briefcase next to him. The staff had been prompt in tending to him, excitement overriding their confusion. However, he purposely adopted his distracted look to have them leave him be - and they quickly got the hint and did just that.

Despite his distracted look, however, he was not oblivious to the very faint sound of shuffling that came from behind him.

There was temptation to look, naturally, his first instinct thinking it was a server approaching him. He did not, however, because he realized quickly that the scent he was picking up was not of that of any of the servers. Even with the quality of their establishment, they themselves at least smelled as if they had washed recently. So, he kept his eyes on the empty street, appearing none the wiser. Just patiently observing...looking at his surroundings...and with only a very brief inhale through his nose, he moved his hand and clamped it down on another’s wrist.

He felt the trying thief freeze under his grip as he looked over to spot a white rabbit - well, _would_ have been, if not for the clear patches of grime tainting it - who was wide-eyed with shock and fear. As Sameth had suspected, he had been reaching for the biscuit before he grabbed him, and the assaulting paw that had been intended to snatch it up had curled up into a fist, as if to hide his true intentions. Before this rabbit had a chance to try and pull away, Sameth pulled him towards him so that their faces were close together.

“Sit down,” Sameth calmly instructed, his voice low, “before _they_ catch you, too.” He gave a slight nod towards the shop on ‘ _they_ ’. He did not fail to notice the confused look that appeared on the rabbit’s face, his nose twitching, and Sameth automatically assumed it had something to do with his voice. He did not voice the assumption, however, and remained patient for some sort of reaction that indicated the other understood.

“...No sé lo que usted dijo.”

Now it was Sameth’s turn to be confused. “Pardon?”

“No puedo entenderlo, no hablo su idioma.”

The dog was about to inquire about this stranger’s apparent inability to speak English, but quickly found it to be pointless. He turned his attention towards the shop and noticed at once one of the employees giving an odd look. He looked back to the rabbit, and proceeded to point towards the chair. “Take a seat.” The rabbit looked at the chair, then back at him, still confused. “Sit,” he said slowly, pointing again, then pointing downwards, “Down.”

The rabbit looked towards the chair again, looking puzzled at first before clarity replaced it, then looked back at him and nodded. Sameth released his grip on his wrist to allow him to do so just as a server was coming out, looking skeptical. “Is everything alright out here?” she asked.

“Yes, everything is quite fine, miss, thank you,” Sameth replied, giving her a kind smile. Upon noticing her glance towards the rabbit, he quickly added, “My friend here - he just happened to stumble across me and surprised me.” Sameth looked at the other sitting across the table. “Is that not right?” he asked, nodding slightly. The rabbit seemed to get the hint, and nodded as well.

The server raised a brow. “So...he’s with you?”

“He is.” She stared at him, attempting to see through his lie. He was equal to it, however, and stared back. Eventually she decided to turn and leave. He waited for her to go back into the shop before looking at the rabbit. “So...no English, huh?” 

The other merely blinked.

“You-” he gestured towards him, “Don’t understand-” he shook his head, “Me?” He placed his hand on his chest. 

The rabbit hesitated, then slowly shook his head, though he seemed uncertain on what he was shaking his head at.

Sameth hummed, a little perplexed. “Interesting,” he murmured. “What’s your- mm,” he was about to ask, then caught himself. He remained quiet as he thought for a moment, before placing his hand on his own chest again. “Sameth.”

He canted his head, furrowing a brow.

Sameth patted his chest, and repeated, with some emphasis, “ _Sameth._ ”

The rabbit’s damaged ears straightened, understanding clear on his face. He pointed at Sameth. “¿Es usted Sameth?”

“Yes,” Sameth nodded, patting his chest again. “Sameth.”

“Ah,” he said, starting to understand. He paused, though, seeming dubious. However, he eventually copied Sameth’s action, placing a hand on his own chest. “Maximus.”

“Maximus?”

“Sí.”

Sameth nodded. “Maximus. Got it.” Oh, how he wanted to ask Maximus some questions, now curious by this stranger - but he recognized that he could not. At least not easily. He lightly tapped a finger on the table’s surface, then glanced down at the biscuit and water he had. “Here,” he said, proceeding to push them towards Maximus, paying no mind to how he leaned back in his chair as if to lean away from the items. “You look like you could use these more than me.”

Maximus looked at it with uncertainty. Slowly, he leaned forward to pick up the biscuit from its napkin, looking it over then looking at Sameth, who nodded with a smile. He eyed the biscuit before placing it down, proceeding to dig through his rucksack.

The dog’s smile faded once he realized what he was doing. “Oh, no, no-” The rabbit looked up at him quickly, and he shook his head insistently. “No, just take it.”

“Eh?”

“Just-” he gestured to the biscuit, “Just take it.” He shook his head again, holding a hand out with his fingers spread to try and make himself more clear, “I don’t want anything you have. It’s okay.”

Maximus proceeded to squint at him, obviously finding something about his rejection a touch strange. It crossed his mind that maybe he possibly offended the guy, but the poor rabbit seemed to be having a hard enough time as is. He was willing to accidentally insult him rather than take his things. Maximus eventually decided to put the rucksack down, and picked up the biscuit, and after a small hesitation, he proceeded to bite into it. By the fact that Maximus had gone for his food and not the briefcase it was clear to Sameth it had been a few days since he last ate, and since small talk was not exactly an option at the moment, he decided to lean back in his seat, crossing a leg over his opposite knee and resumed staring at the empty street while the rabbit ate.

“Gracias,” Maximus eventually murmured after he had finished.

Sameth assumed he had just thanked him, and gave a small shrug as if to say ‘ _think nothing of it_ ’. He looked towards the sky, which had gotten a lot darker than when he had first gotten there. “Well, I should probably get going.” He looked at the rabbit and asked, “Do you have a place to stay?”

“¿Qué?”

“Sorry. Do you-” pointed at him, “Have a…” He paused, trying to think of how to sign his question. “Uhhh, oh-” He put his hands together and pressed him against his face. “Sleep? Somewhere to sleep?”

Maximus gave him a weird look, squinting at him in clear confusion. “No me...¿Qué?” There was some irritation in his tone. “No tengo ni idea qué cresta significa eso-”

“Whoa-” He uncrossed his legs and held up his hands in a calming gesture. “Hey, okay, I’m sorry! Take it easy.” The rabbit huffed, crossing his arms and leaning back in his chair. “I’m just trying t-” he started saying, then muttered to himself, “...You don’t know I’m trying to help.” He huffed a sigh, thinking for a moment before nodding. “Alright-” He stood up from his seat, making the rabbit look up at him in surprise. “Why don’t you-” he adjusted his jacket, then made a gesture, “Come with me?”

Maximus looked up at him with wide, doubtful eyes, shaking his head slightly in disbelief. “¿Por qué estás haciendo esto?”

He had no idea what the rabbit said, but he sensed the doubt. “I know you don’t know or understand me,” he said patiently, “But I promise, I’m not gonna do anything to you.” He then proceeded to offer a hand out to Maximus, who blinked at the gesture, then looked at the dog. The dog gave a friendly smile, but he returned it with a suspicious frown. He did not take the hand, and got up on his own. “Fine by me,” Sameth said casually, returning his hand to his side. He picked up his briefcase (noticing how the rabbit seemed to grip onto his own rucksack, as if mimicking his action somewhat) and began to walk away from the shop. And with some hesitance, Maximus followed, tip-toeing behind.

. . .

The pair arrived at a motel, one that was easily as run down as the shop they had been in. Sameth noticed how Maximus, who had been walking behind him, had decided to move closer to his side upon entering the lobby. “Hey, it’s okay,” he murmured to him as he approached the empty front desk, hoping his tone was enough to keep the rabbit relaxed. He rang the bell on the desk, and waited patiently a moment while an employee wordlessly came around. “A room with two beds,” Sameth requested, “If you do not mind.”

The employee looked at him quizzically, then looked at Maximus and frowned (and he felt Maximus brushing him as he got a little closer). Obviously, neither of them looked like they belonged in a motel like this, much less standing next to each other. “...He’s-”

“-With me, yes. May I have a room, please?”

“Uh- yes. Of course. Just-” He turned away, then turned back with a key. “Second floor, fifth on the right.”

“Thank you, sir. Have a good evening.” He lightly tapped Maximus’ shoulder, nodding for him to follow once he looked up before continuing.

The room itself was in decent enough condition, save for the dark stains near the base of the wall. Sameth placed his briefcase on the first bed, taking a seat beside it, looking around the room before looking at Maximus, who was tentatively walking around the room. He looked almost a little in awe, as if he had never been in a motel before. _Probably not_ , Sameth thought. Eventually, Maximus opened the door that led to the tiny bathroom, looking in it before looking at Sameth and pointing in it. “¿Le importa si yo...?”

“If you need it, go ahead,” Sameth replied, waving a hand. That must have been what Maximus was asking about, because he entered and shut the door behind him. Less than a minute later, there was the sound of water running. Sameth did not mind - the rabbit clearly needed bathing more urgently than he did. He could simply get one in the morning.

While the other was in the bathroom, he decided to open his briefcase. In it were a few different things - clothing, money, etcetera - and the one thing he took out was a folded piece of parchment that rested on top of it all. Unfolding it, it was a map, one that had many pencil marks on it - grey lines and Xs were left all over - with the occasional small tear from where he had pressed the pencil too hard. He proceeded to slip out a pencil hidden under his clothes, and, mindful not to accidentally tear the page again, started tracing a certain line across it, before placing an X roughly in the spot where he was now. He chewed the eraser, deep in thought as he mentally tried to calculate how much farther he was from his desired location. It could not have been too far a distance now, perhaps an hour, maybe an hour and a half - _if_ he was calculating correctly. A majority of this had been educated guesswork, but it had been mostly _accurate_ …

He eventually heard the water stop, and decided to fold up the map and put it and the pencil away and remove his pajamas in preparation to get changed. As soon as Maximus exited, mostly dry but fur sticking out in various places from drying himself, Sameth gathered up his pajamas and went into the bathroom after him (He strongly preferred having his privacy when changing). A couple of minutes later, he was changed into a comfortable enough, light blue shirt and pants. He placed his proper clothes in the briefcase and shut it, before taking the briefcase and sliding it under his bed.

He sat on his bed once again, looking over at Maximus sitting on his, preoccupied with running his hand over the covers, clearly fascinated by their material. “Finding it comfy, huh?” Sameth inquired. Maximus looked at him and he lifted up the corner of his own white sheet, rubbing it between his fingers. “Comfy?”

Maximus copied that action, but frowned and shook his head at him - again, he did not understand.

Sameth hummed, putting the sheet corner down, and Maximus did the same, deciding to pull his rucksack closer to him. Sameth looked him over carefully for a moment, and a thought occurred to him. “...Maximus?” The rabbit looked over. Sameth tugged lightly at the fabric of his own shirt, and said, “Do you have any other clothes?”

Maximus blinked at that, looking down at himself before giving an annoyed - and, frankly, offended - look. “¿Qué pasa con mi ropa?” he asked defensively.

“Oh- no, I’m sorry, I’m not-” he tried to correct himself, but he did not know how to because he was not sure what the other thought he had said.

Obviously displeased, he huffed, muttering, “Buenas noches,” before lying down with his back facing the dog, hugging his rucksack close.

Sameth frowned, feeling bad for accidentally insulting this stranger. He had good intentions in mind, but with the language barrier, it was hard to make that as clear. He glanced down towards the floor, thinking for a moment, then giving a small sigh as he grabbed the blankets and climbed under them. “Good night,” he said towards Maximus, who just barely flicked an ear towards him in response.

Though Sameth shut his eyes to sleep, Maximus was uncertain if he would be able to do the same.

. . .

Maximus was awoken the next morning by the summer sun shining directly into his eye, making him grunt in annoyance as he moved to shield his eyes with his arm, slowly sitting up in the bed. He wiped his eyes with his sleeves, yawning and trying to wake up. The first thing he noticed once he was a little more awake was that his rucksack was not on the bed with him - which immediately caused him to look around in a panic. He eventually found it on the floor, having must have been pushed off in the middle of the night. He scooped it up and held it close to him.

The second thing he noticed was that the other bed was empty and made, as if no one had been there at all.

The sight made him freeze, shock running through his system. He looked around the room, as if somehow he had just missed Sameth elsewhere, but he appeared to be nowhere in sight. He abandoned his rucksack on the bed and hopped off it, going over and checking in the bathroom. He was not there, either. He then proceeded to wander around the small motel room - not in search, but in anger and contemplation. Contemplation on what he was going to do next now that he was alone again, and anger towards Sameth for leaving him and himself for trusting him even a little in the first place.

Why would someone like Sameth care about him, anyway? He looked no different than anyone else in this godforsaken city that he had made the mistake - the _mistake!_ \- of travelling to a few days back - and probably acted no different! He was probably as smug and as stuck up as everyone else there. Maximus should have never come, he should have never bothered sitting with that stupid dog, he should have never followed him to the motel, and he should have _never_ trusted _anyone_ other than-

In the midst of his rage-induced mental rant, he had snatched his rucksack from the bed, intending to storm out, and as he was about to reach for the handle, the door opened, with Sameth in the doorway - and at once Maximus’ ears shot up, freezing in his place. Sameth blinked, eyeing the lagomorph, then raising a brow once he seemingly registered what was happening.

“Well, top of the morning to you,” he said - though, of course, Maximus did not quite understand.

The teen took a few steps back, and mumbled, “Hola…” He looked over him warily for a moment, before noticing the folded clothes in his arms. He nodded towards them, and asked, “¿Y esos?”

Sameth looked from him to the clothes, then proceeded to hold them out to him. “I got these for you.”

Just as he had when the other had pushed the biscuit and water towards him, Maximus leaned back when the clothes were held out to him. Looking over them as they were, they seemed to be garments a lot like what most of the men he had seen wore. _Fancy_. To be at least a little polite, he nodded approvingly. “Son muy agradables.”

“I think you’re misunderstanding - they’re for _you_.” Sameth pointed to Maximus.

He blinked, glancing between the dog and the clothes, eventually looking at Sameth and putting a hand on his own chest. “¿Es...para mí?”

“Yeah!” Sameth nodded. “For you! Here-” He moved past Maximus and placed them on the bed, then took a step back and gestured towards them.

Maximus hesitated, then set his rucksack on the floor to pick up the top article of clothing - a white dress shirt. He set that aside, then looked at the rest of the outfit. It was simple to the average person - just a standard black suit - but to Maximus, it seemed so... _upper class_. He even caught himself looking almost disdainfully at the dirty sweater with the messily sewed pocket he was wearing.

“I, uh-” Sameth started speaking, getting the lagomorph’s attention. “I figured you’d like ‘em, just to blend in. Stop having people stare at you.”

“Aún no tengo ni idea qué está diciendo,” Maximus muttered, looking over the clothes again. “...Gracias.” He turned to Sameth, the jacket for the outfit in hand. “Y...lo siento. Creo que entendí mal.”

“I’m not sure what you said, but I’m guessing there was a ‘thanks’ in there, so- don’t mention it.” Sameth then proceeded to gesture towards the bathroom. “Get changed - we got quite a walk ahead of us.”

Understanding the gesture, Maximus gathered his new outfit and went into the bathroom, shutting the door behind him. He had to take a few minutes to actually put them on - they were definitely not the sort that he was used to. All these buttons - and it felt a little loose, likely because of his small, thin frame. When he finished, though, he got on his tiptoes to try and see himself in the mirror before grunting in annoyance and simply climbing onto the sink to see himself properly.

It looked...nice. And fresh. And so... _not_ him. But it would at least help him _not_ look so out of place.

When he exited, he saw Sameth looking at a map, his briefcase open - though he stopped once he heard the door open and looked over at Maximus, a smile appearing on his expression. “Looking good!” he complimented. His smile faded when he noticed the way the sleeves went down to Maximus’ knuckles. “Sorry about the size - I got the smallest I could find.” Of course, Maximus could only look back at him, but he didn’t seem to care - he simply folded up his map and returned it to his briefcase. Once he had it shut and in his hand, he proceeded to hold out Maximus’ rucksack to him, which the teen took and slung over his shoulder.

The two left the motel shortly afterwards, returning to the streets that were mostly empty due to it being still fairly early. They walked without word for a few minutes, before Sameth eventually glanced over at him, looking him up and down. Maximus noticed, and raised a brow, feeling a little defensive once again. “¿Qué?”

“Nothing,” Sameth shook his head, looking forward again. “Just noticing how silently you walk, is all.”

Perhaps the comment was intended to be rhetorical, but Maximus found his ears perking at one of the words, somewhat recognizing it. “¿Silencioso?”

The dog looked at him, surprised. “Is that how you say it? ‘Silencioso?’”

Maximus seemed surprised, and - for the first time since they met - gave a sharp-toothed smile as he nodded excitedly. “¡Sí! Silencioso!” He pointed towards him. “¿Qué ha dicho? S...Silent?”

“Holy leaping- yeah!” Sameth smiled, nodding. “Yeah! ‘Silent’. That’s how I say it. And for you it’s ‘silencioso.’”

“¡Sí! ¡Sí, sí, sí! Apuesto a que _usted_ -” He pointed to Sameth, “Usted dice que _yo_ estoy-” He gestured to himself, “ _Caminando_ silencioso.” He looked down at his feet, which he had been tiptoeing with out of habit, then purposely flattened them so that they were audibly slapping on the concrete ground.

As he was working out what Sameth had said, Sameth’s smile was widening. “That’s- yeah! What’d you say - ‘caminando’? Walking?” He took two fingers and made a walking motion. Maximus nodded with a ‘ _mm-hm!_ ’ “That’s right! Uh-” He tried to mentally piece together the words, trying to pinpoint the ones the lagomorph had placed emphasis on. “Um...usted...caminando silencioso?”

“Tu acento apesta, pero sí! Verá, me gusta andar como escondido. Tenía que hacerlo mucho en mi casa. Así que empecé a caminar así-” He started walking on his tiptoes again. “Pa’ que la gente no me escuchara venir. Bueno, uste’ me oyó venir. Pero ni me esforcé ahí. Tenía mucha hambre. Si me hubiera esforzao’ de verdad, entonces-” He stopped suddenly, his excited expression fading as he looked over at Sameth, who was looking at him with a polite smile. His ears drooped slightly, and he looked away, making the dog’s smile fade in surprise. “Usted no sabe lo que estoy diciendo,” he muttered. “Esto es inútil.”

“Why’d you stop?” asked Sameth, sounding a little disappointed much to Maximus’ confusion and surprise. “I was listening.” He gestured to his ear so that the lagomorph would understand.

Maximus merely hummed.

Sameth frowned, and seemed thoughtful for a moment. “Here, I’ll give us something to try and talk about-” He stopped in his step, making the other stop, and opened his briefcase for a moment to grab the map from it. He handed it to Maximus, who unfolded it out of curiosity. He could not make heads or tails of it - all he saw were lines and words that meant nothing to him considering his inability to read.

“¿Qué es esto?” the teen inquired, raising a brow.

“Okay, so-” Sameth said, kneeling beside him once he had his briefcase shut. He then pointed at one of the Xs. “This is where we are. Brooklyn. And this is where I’m heading,” he moved his finger across the map to another X. “New York City. Not sure if that means anything to you since you’re nowhere from here, I’m sure, but-”

“Espere…” Maximus said after looking over the map for a bit, seeming to clue into what it was. He traced the lines with a finger, before tapping on the X furthest from where Sameth had pointed. “¿Qué es esto?” He tapped on the spot.

“Oh yeah, that’s, uh- that’s where I’m from. I-” He looked at Maximus and gestured to himself. “Yo?” Maximus nodded. “Yo...caminando.”

“¿Usted _caminado?_ ” the lagomorph said with a correcting tone.

“What’d I say?”

“Espere, entonces- Usted ha caminado desde allí-” He tapped on that spot again, then moved to where Sameth had pointed and tapped that. “¿Hasta aquí?”

“Yeah. Yo caminando. Caminado. Great - you’ve got me confused, now.”

Maximus, naturally, paid no mind to the comment, still observing the map carefully, the wheels in his head turning as he thought. “...Llegué ahí,” he mumbled, tapping at a spot closer to the water. “O eso supongo.”

Sameth squinted, then carefully took the map from him to look closer. “...Red Hook?” he said, tilting his head. “You took a boat here?”

Maximus’ ear twitched. “¿Bote? Es el que, uh…” He hummed, imitating the ship’s horn that he had heard.

The dog’s ears perked forward. “Well I’ll be damned. Yes,” he nodded, “Boat. Usted boat?”

“Sí. Yo viajé en un bote.”

“That’s pretty neat!” he said, offering a smile, which Maximus returned. He proceeded to fold up the map and, not feeling like opening his briefcase again, settled for placing it in his jacket pocket. “Well- usted and yo better get caminando if we’re gonna get there in a timely manner.”

“No hagas eso,” Maximus said, deadpan.

“ _Hey_ , don’t give me that. I’m trying, alright?” He stood up, and started walking again.

“¿Estaba usted en un bote?” he asked, pointing at Sameth.

“Me? Boat? No,” he shook his head. “I did go on a train, though.”

“Tren...Train.”

“That’s right! Dang, there’s a lot of these, ain’t- _isn’t_ there? Maybe I got a chance at figuring out what you’re saying after all.”

“Nunca he estado en un tren. Pero había vías de tren no muy lejos de mi casa. Hacían harto ruido cuando estaba cerca…” The lagomorph’s voice trailed off as the two grew more distant, disappearing further into the city.


	3. A Warm Welcome to New York City

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sameth and Maximus arrive to New York City. Sameth has plans for them, but if there's one thing that Maximus has learned, it's that plans don't turn out like you hope.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Important note: I am not fluent in Spanish by any means. I have done my best to translate as accurately as possible between Google Translate, Babylon Translator, SpanishChecker & my own current knowledge of Spanish. However, I understand that the accuracy may be slightly off. If you are fluent in Spanish & see something that is incorrect, don’t be afraid to tell me. I thank you for informing me, will gladly fix the text & will credit you for the corrections.
> 
> \--
> 
> after months & months, it's finally here!! i do apologize for the long wait, between getting wrapped up in other projects & school, this unintentionally ended up getting push to the side rip. howEVER hopefully the fact that this chapter ended up being larger than chapters 1 & 2 combined makes up for it uwu

The dog and lagomorph had been walking for nearly forty minutes straight without a break before Sameth noticeably slowed in his pace. Not only did Maximus catch on to the sudden dip in the pace, but his ears could also hear the canine grunting in the back of his throat, as if bothered by something. This made him stop in his tracks and tilt his head slightly. “¿Pasa algo mal?” he inquired.

Sameth’s gaze moved over to him quickly, him speaking after some time spent in silence (seeing as they could only attempt to communicate and attempt to have those attempts understood so many times before it started to become mentally tiresome) surprising him. Still, he seemed to understand the general tone of concern, and waved a hand. “Ah, I’m alright. Er- I’m, uh-” he stammered, quickly thinking of a means to express what he said before settling with a thumbs up and a nod.

“Tú... ¿Bueno?” Maximus said slowly, trying to understand what it was the dog was communicating, and mimicked the thumbs up and nod upon saying ‘bueno’.

Figuring the copying of his actions was to signal the meaning of the word, Sameth nodded again and said, “Yes. Uh- si. Yo bu-  _ bue- _ no.”

“Yo  _ soy _ bueno,” the lagomorph corrected.

“Yo soy bueno,” Sameth repeated, then murmured, “Okay, so ‘yo’ is ‘I’, I’m guessing ‘bueno’ is something along the lines of ‘good’...’I am good.’”

“¿Repita, porfa?” he requested. He had been repeating this phrase over the course of their conversations since beginning their walk to wherever it was that Sameth was leading them, and would specifically say it after the dog would attempt to deconstruct the phrase as he was doing now.

Since Sameth understood the first word as being close to ‘repeat’, he had caught onto the intention behind the request quickly. “I am good,” he said again.

“I am...good,” Maximus repeated slowly, testing the foreign words, then said again, with a little more confidence, “I am good.”

“You’re getting it!” the dog confirmed with a reassuring nod and yet another thumbs up. “Bueno.”

Maximus gave him a polite smile, though he noticed that after Sameth had spoken, he seemed to lift his foot and spin it in a circle. He found this surprising, only because he recognized this action within himself. Being on his feet all day was undoubtedly a strenuous task, let alone on his tiptoes, and sometimes he would do this action without realizing just to unstiffen his ankles. So upon Sameth doing this very thing, he figured that he must have been doing it for that very reason as well. “¿Deberíamo’ descansar un momento?” he asked.

“I beg your pardon?” Sameth asked in response, tilting his head to better indicate his confusion about the question.

“¿Quieres…” he started saying, then paused to think of a way to convey his question so that Sameth would understand, even placing a finger on his chin and humming. He then decided to walk off to the side of the path that they were walking along, as to be more out of the way should anyone else come to pass by, then faced his new acquaintance to look him in the eye, and sat himself down. “¿Sentarse?”

“‘Sentarse?’” Sameth repeated, sounding uncertain.

“Sí. Sentarse.” He patted the place beside him, as if to emphasize his statement. “Puede descansar tu tobillo.”

“You want me to...sit next to you?” he guessed, then said again, “Sentarse?”

“Sí,” he said, his tone a little more insistent, as was his patting the stone beside him again. 

The canine still appeared uncertain, however, and hugged his briefcase closer to him as if to protect it, his gaze flickering nervously in the direction they had been walking. Though he did not understand the reason for his appearing apprehensive, he sympathized - but he would hate for Sameth to injure himself by accident just by straining himself. He understood better than anyone that an injury could be greatly detrimental when in a position that allowed for very little wiggle room.

So in an attempt to convince him to take a break, he decided to dig through his rucksack and pull out some of the stale bread that he still had from his departure from Chile, and held it out for Sameth. “¿Hambriento?” The dog merely blinked, still not quite catching on to what it was that he was asking, so Maximus pointed at him with his free hand and said, “Tú,” then pressed his fingertips together then pressed them to his mouth in an eating motion. “Comes.”

“Comes…” His ears perked up in realization and he copied the action Maximus did, and said, “Eat? You want me to sit and eat? Yo sentarse and comes?”

“Yo  _ siento _ y  _ como _ ,” he partially corrected, and waved the bread at him. “Pero sí - debería’ comer y descansar. Pa’ un minuto o dos.”

Sameth shook his head. “I’m still not sure I completely understand, buddy, but if you wanna stop, then I’m not gonna argue.”

As the dog approached to take a seat beside his acquaintance, a pleasant smile appeared on Maximus’ features, and once Sameth had taken his seat, he gave the bread to him. “Lo siento,” he apologized, “El pan es un poco rancio.” He made a motion of snapping something in half, even making a cracking noise to try and express his point.

Sameth tilted his head slightly, giving a puzzled look, before looking at the bread in his hands and snapping it in half with ease, some crumbs spilling over his lap. “Oh,” he said, understanding the lagomorph’s gestures.

Maximus could not stop himself from laughing after witnessing this. “¡Te lo dije!”

Upon hearing the other laugh, the canine chuckled as well. “Yeah, I probably should’ve seen that coming. Here,” he handed half of the now broken bread to the lagomorph before using his now free hand to wipe the crumbs from his pants. While he did this, Maximus bit into his bread half. “So, do tell me,” Sameth said once he was cleaned up, then turned to the other and pointed at the bread in his hand. “What is this to you?”

The lagomorph chewed his piece a little further before answering, “Pan.”

“Pan?” he repeated, puzzled, then gave an intrigued hum. ”Interesting…”

“¿Y esto?” he asked, pointing at his own piece of bread.

“Bread.” He took a bite of his half.

“B- ...br...ead?”

He hummed pleasantly with a nod. “You got it,” he said, his mouth full.

Maximus said again, “Bread…” He frowned slightly, and murmured, “Muy extraño…”

Sameth swallowed. “What a difference, eh? I mean, a pan is something completely different in English. It’s interesting, though.”

As the lagomorph was chewing on his own piece, he appeared thoughtful, with a spark of curiosity in his eyes. He then decided to dig through his rucksack again, which the canine noticed and perked his ears up at. Maximus then pulled out a small piece of cheese that he had snatched during his first few days in the country, and held it to Sameth, saying, “Queso.”

“Queso,” Sameth said, then pointed at it, and stated clearly, “Cheese.”

“Cheese,” he repeated, saying it with a little less struggle than ‘bread’, and giving an understanding nod. Deciding to test the word, he offered, “¿Quiere’ cheese?”

Sameth smiled warmly and, sensing the offer, replied with “Gracias” before taking the cheese from him.

This earned a bright smile from the lagomorph as well. “¡No es nada!” While Sameth ate the cheese as well, Maximus was satisfied to continue eating just his bread. “¿Puedo preguntar, Sameth?”

The dog swallowed what he had, then looked at the other with a raised brow. He had not understood anything aside from his own name, so his response was hesitant. “Er...yes? Si?”

He could tell that Sameth did not fully comprehend his statement, but given that he had no way to express his question off the top of his head, he simply continued. “¿Por qué no hay zapatos?” He wiggled his toes to emphasize the crux of his question.

“...Are you asking about…” He proceeded to lift his own foot, though he made a circle motion with it just as he had prior to sitting down. “This?”

“Sí, sí.” He mimicked the motion. “Te duelen los pies, ¿no ayudan los zapatos?”

“Ah, I don’t really know why my ankle gets sore,” Sameth responded, figuring that was what the other was inquiring about. “I think it’s just from all the walking around I do in a day. I usually try to keep moving - make the most of my daylight. Guess it wears on the joints sometimes.”

Maximus nodded in understanding as the other spoke, although he did not understand anything that he was saying whatsoever. “No uso zapatos, pero no creo que valga la pena. Pero eres rico, podrías usarlo’.”

The Golden Retriever could not help but crack a smile, finding this conversation to be going pretty smoothly despite the language barrier. He then took another bite of the cheese, and while he chewed it, he stared at the ground, mostly spacing out as he allowed his thoughts a moment to wander. “...Okay, okay, so-” The lagomorph looked at him, perking one ear up. “You-” Sameth pointed at him, “You said ‘comes’- you said ‘tu comes’. But then  _ I _ said ‘yo comes’, and you said, ‘no, no - yo  _ como _ ’.”

“Sí,” Maximus confirmed with a nod, believing the dog to be attempting to piece together his correction from earlier. “Pa’  _ yo _ , es  _ como _ ,” he clarified, putting a hand on his chest, before gesturing to Sameth. “Pa’  _ tú _ , es  _ comes _ .”

“Yo como,” he repeated, mimicking the action of pointing at himself, then pointing at Maximus. “Tu comes.”

“¡Sí! Lo tienes.”

“I eat, you eat...” the canine murmured underneath his breath, trying to wrap his head around the little grammar lesson he had just received, finding the word changing depending on the subject both strange and fascinating. “See, we don’t have something like that in English. Um...no  _ como _ and  _ comes _ in English,” he attempted to explain. The lagomorph merely tilted his head. “It’s, uh-” He put his index finger up. “Only one. One word.”

“Uno?”

“Si. Uno word. So, perhaps,  _ como _ , but no  _ comes _ .”

“Eh?” Maximus was scratching his head, raising a brow at the dog’s words. He was not fully comprehending Sameth’s explanation, although whether that was thanks to the language barrier or just simply failing to understand the concept Sameth was trying to convey to him, he was not entirely sure.

Sameth hummed. “Okay, mm... _ como _ is eat, but  _ comes _ is also eat.”

“ _ Eat? _ ”

“Yes.”

“Como es e- ‘ _ eat _ ’-” He put emphasis on the ‘t’. “-pero comes también es ‘eat’.”

“Si, yes.”

A long pause, to which Maximus’ expression was in deep thought, his eyes looking elsewhere as the wheels turned in his head. “Pero eso significa que 'comer' también es 'eat'.”

“It’s all just one word,” Sameth said again, trying not to crack the slightest smile at his new lagomorph friend’s baffled state.

“¡Todo es 'eat'!” he exclaimed, finding this fact that there was only one word for each subject, regardless of subject, very bizarre. He put a hand to his chin, his features perplexed yet somewhat awed. “Eso es tan extraño…”

Although he did not know the exact words that Maximus was speaking, Sameth nonetheless understood the feelings of confusion he was currently experiencing, and he nodded in sympathy, murmuring, “Yeah.”

. . .

After they had finished up the bread and cheese, Sameth’s ankles were feeling better than they had been, and so they continued the long walk towards the next city. They continued ‘chatting’, having regained some of their mental energy from the stop (Sameth had made it a point, with a little bit of work, to inform Maximus that the break had been a great idea by him. The lagomorph seemed quite pleased to hear this). Despite the amount of effort it took to decipher and translate the occasional word - not to mention the various attempts to clarify via several hand gestures that went into each conversation - the practice was good for them both. And although they had only learned a very small crumb’s worth in comparison to the large and complex vocabularies of their own respective tongues, it amazed them both that they were learning more all the time.

As Maximus was speaking about (and keep in mind, the dog was basing this entirely off of words which had similar sounds to English, plus what few words he was confident that he knew) his mother, something to do with bread, his family, that he liked cheese - which Sameth certainly could not blame him for - back to his mother, saying how she was strict.

He’d said, “Ella insultó a mi tío por tomarse un descanso porque tenía la pierna rota,” then exclaimed, “¡Una pierna rota!” as if it were one of the most ridiculous things he had ever heard. Sameth did not understand, but he nodded in agreement anyway.

Maximus then went on to mention someone by the name of ‘Josefa’ - and whomever she was, he had likely clarified, but the translation was completely lost on Sameth - and something about an argument, and it being ‘brutal’.

The only other word after that that sounded familiar to him was when Maximus had said “A ella le  _ importaba _ ,” the last word of which sounded similar to the word ‘ _ important _ ’. Which, he supposed, if Maximus were speaking of his family in what sounded like a nostalgic and generally positive manner, he supposed it would make sense for him to refer to them as important.

“Sounds like you think quite fondly of your family,” Sameth remarked. Then, when Maximus did not understand, he said, “Tu familia is bueno.”

“Tu familia es buen _ a _ ,” the lagomorph gently corrected - another difference that Sameth would have to mentally keep note of. “Pero sí. Mi familia es muy buena.” He then murmured quietly, “Me pregunto cómo están…” although it seemed this time that Sameth simply had not heard him at all, let alone understood him. The lagomorph’s torn ear twitched as a thought occurred to him, and he turned his gaze over to the dog. “¿Y tu familia?”

Sameth understood the question at once, and quirked a brow. “ _ My _ family? My familia?”

“Sí. ¿Cómo es tu familia?”

He hesitated. He could not say that he had not expected the question to come eventually, assuming him and Maximus were acquainted for more than a short amount of time, but that did not make the question any less awkward. Not so much because the topic bothered him - he was rather detached from it, at this point - but because it sounded as though Maximus might have valued family, so Sameth’s answer might have been shocking to him. Still, the Golden Retriever answered truthfully, “Yo no, uh, familia.”

Maximus’ ears and brows shot right up. “¿No tienes familia?” Sameth shook his head. “¿No mamá? ¿No papá? ¿Sin hermanos? ¿Nada?”

Having certainly heard the last word used in an overheard conversation before, he felt comfortable enough shaking his head again, and confirming, “Nada.”

The lagomorph, indeed, was shocked to hear this. No family? Why, he could not imagine it! All his life up until now, he had been surrounded by nothing but a large family, and, sure, they had not always been perfect, but they were still loving and caring. And even though he was now miles away from them, and had spent a good few days on his own, he at least was able to hold onto his memories of them for comfort. But from what Sameth was telling him, he did not even have that - and that was the most shocking part of all. When he finally did come back to his senses, he blinked twice, and lowered his head, gently murmuring, “Lo siento.”

Sameth detected the apology in his tone, and could only give a small shrug. “Don’t be,” he replied quietly, though knowing that Maximus likely would not understand anyway. “It happens.”

He looked back up at him, his brows furrowed somewhat. “¿Entonce’ estar solo tú?” The canine, roughly understanding what he was asking, simply nodded in response. “Es horrible.”

“Nah, it’s not that bad,” he reassured. “I hardly think about it, honestly. It’s pretty normal to me.”

Maximus suddenly reached out a hand, placing it on Sameth’s jacket sleeve. This surprised Sameth, but he gave a small, amused laugh. The lagomorph held no amusement, however - his expression was completely serious. “No estás solo ahora. Estás atrapado conmigo de ahora en adelante. Apenas te conozco, y no hablo tu idioma, pero lo averiguaré.”

Another amused chuckle came from the dog, who lightly patted his new friend’s hand. “Not sure what you’re saying, but I appreciate the gesture, li’l buddy. Erm, gracias.”

“No hay de qué, amigo. Nadie merece estar solo.”

As they were reaching the end of that exchange, they were beginning to pass through the border that officially placed them into the next city over. Sameth knew this, because the first thing that he registered was the buildings and their height. That, and the bustle of people, the loud hum of their chatter just barely managed to be heard over the occasional clacking of the wheels of wooden carriages as they travelled through the streets. As well as that thick, smoky smell that the canine acknowledged its presence in cities, but had still yet become accustomed to. No doubt, he would get a headache if he walked the streets for any length of time - which, inevitably, he would have to, seeing as staying in motels the duration of the day was an extra expense that he could not spend his money on.

Maximus found himself sticking closer to the dog’s side, his eyes wide and his ears perfectly straight as he attempted to process the onslaught of sights and sounds. “Oh Dios,” he murmured, turning his head this way and that, carefully scanning his new surroundings. “Esta es mucha gente...”

Sameth, in turn, was placing a hand on the lagomorph’s shoulder. “Stay close,” he advised. Maximus may not have understood, but at the very least, it was clear just by looking at him that he had no intention of wandering off. Either way, Sameth did not want him to - this place was bigger than he was used to, and although he had always known he would reach this city, he found some comfort in knowing that he had someone else to endure this admittedly overwhelming new experience with.

The canine thought it better to lead them closer to the buildings, where there was shade and fewer people standing by. If there was one thing that the both of them could agree with, it was that crowds were better off being avoided, particularly when said crowds were made up of complete strangers. Maximus found himself clutching at his loose-fitting suit, his eyes unable to do anything other than stare widely at this new city, which was so much bigger and so much more different than the small town that he had once been used to. Even the previous location had seemed large, but now it seemed significantly smaller compared to here. His throat was growing dry, and he could not stop himself from swallowing in his nervousness.

Sameth, on the other hand, was looking up and around the place with a mix of reasonable fear and nigh disbelieving awe. He, too, had yet to be within a city as large as this one, but it had also been his dream to come there, and his heart was pounding in his chest in his anxious excitement. The buildings seemed to completely tower over everything, and so intricate in their beauty. It truly had been like nothing he had ever seen. He eventually found himself absentmindedly letting go of Maximus’ shoulder, which the lagomorph internally protested, his already nervous frown deepening.

The dog found himself wandering out of the relatively safe shade that the buildings, and into the break between all the people which was formed in a nearly perfect circle, as though the fates had formed it specifically for him to step into. And he stood there, out in the open sunlight, and removed his hat so that he may get a better look at the colossal buildings off in the distance, which cast a glimmer on their windows from the sunrays. He found a small smile appearing on his features, sighing deeply through his nose, as though all of his anxieties had been lifted off of his shoulders just by this one sight alone.

It had been a long trek to get there. But he was finally there. And in that moment, it really  _ did _ feel as though he was finally reaching the end of one chapter, and beginning a whole new one.

Shortly after that last thought, he turned his head to his right, expecting Maximus to be there - then had a look of momentary surprise, looked around, then only then realized that Maximus was still lingering by the brick walls, fiddling with his oversized sleeves. Sameth’s smile returned, brighter than ever, and gestured to their general surroundings. “Es bueno, si?” he asked, unable to contain the growing joy which was rapidly replacing his initial nervous feelings.

Maximus had no way to properly communicate to Sameth that he was not particularly comfortable with speaking his language with so many strangers nearby, fearing what the potential consequences of it could be. However, he gave Sameth a smile in return, if only to express a small amount of pride towards the dog forming his first sentence in unbroken Spanish. Deciding to humour his excited friend, he nodded, replying, “Muy bueno.”

The canine let out a jolly laugh, finding himself surprisingly happy to hear Maximus agree. “Hey, come on, now, don’t be shy!” He went and, before the lagomorph could back away, grabbed Maximus by the arm, bringing him forward. “The view’s way better out here, just look!”

“Ah, Sameth-!” Maximus tried to protest in his shock, but cut himself short when Sameth positioned him squarely in front of him, holding both of his shoulders. Without even thinking about it, he looked up at the vast city before him, at the structures which casted their light off of the glass, giving them a look that could only be described as nearly ethereal. Maximus’ eyes sparkled, his dark eyes catching the shine. He, too, had never seen something like this before, and he, too, was now understanding some of Sameth’s joy in having reached this place.

While Maximus had been stunned into silence, Sameth moved to be by his side, and knelt down. “Hey,” he said quietly, snapping the lagomorph out of his slight daze and getting his attention. “Usted and yo - caminando. Okay?”

Having at least a rough idea as to what Sameth was attempting to say, and he gave a single, slow nod.

“Muy bueno!” he whispered excitedly. He proceeded to take his friend’s hand, and began moving forward through the crowd, leading the way.

. . .

The two had spent the better part of the afternoon just exploring around the city. Maximus remained in a state of being both in awe of all the sights, yet still overwhelmed by all of the smells and sounds that came with all the otherwise wonderful scenery. Sameth, on the other hand, had somehow managed to tune out all the surrounding bustle, and though he was, indeed, feeling a headache creeping in from his senses being assaulted, somehow his eagerness to check the city out was enough to at least distract him from it. “God, there’s just so much to  _ look _ at,” the canine said in a low, amazed voice.

To think that to all of these passerbys, it might have been nothing exactly worth gawking at. He almost pitied any of the ones who had lost the ability to appreciate how grand their city was due to it being the norm for them. He could not see himself getting over his excited feelings towards New York City any time soon.

It was then that he had noticed that, despite all of the noise that was going on around them, the one thing missing was the sound of Maximus’ typical talkativeness. He found himself looking down at the lagomorph with a puzzled look. “Hey, Maximus.”

For the second time, Maximus blinked out of his stupor, and looked back at Sameth. “Eh? ¿Qué?”

“Uh-” he snapped his fingers as he attempted to remember the word. “Si- silenceo? Silenciso. Silencioso! Right. Tu silencioso. Erm- muy silencioso. Are you, uh- hm. Bueno?” He pointed at him with the last word.

Maximus was too distracted to bother much with correcting him. He would just have to do so at a later time. Keeping his voice down as to not have their conversation overheard, he said “Esta ciudad-” and gestured to the buildings. “Es, mm, muy grande.” He had made a gesture with his arms to convey his thoughts.

“Mhm,” the dog hummed with a nod of understanding.

“Y es muy ruidoso.” He pointed to one of his ears, twitching it slightly.

“Hm. Yeah, it probably  _ is _ a lot to take in all at once,” Sameth murmured. He almost felt a little guilty for not noticing Maximus’ discomfort sooner, having been too wrapped up in everything himself. He sure hoped that the lagomorph had not said that he liked the city earlier out of an obligation to be polite. “Here, why don’t we stop by some place. Get a drink, perhaps. I’m actually pretty thirsty after all of that walking, now that I think about it.”

Maximus, naturally, did not know what he was saying, but when the dog proceeded forward, he followed him anyway, since, well, it was not as though there was much other option.

So the duo had gone off to some nearby shop - a fairly modest place, but that was only in comparison to the rest of the city, and not based solely on their own definitions of ‘modest’. The place was pretty small, however, and only had a handful of people inside. Sameth was able to grab some water for the two of them fairly quickly, and since there was no place to sit outside, Sameth settled for taking seating them both before the wide glass window, which allowed for him to continue observing his new location.

While Maximus drank thirstily, Sameth supported his head as he leaned his elbow on the table’s surface, gazing out of the window. The dog gave a gentle sigh through his nose, murmuring, “Bueno…” He removed his elbow from the table, instead choosing to cradle his still-full glass closer to him, too mesmerized still to finally quench his own thirst. “It really is better than I expected...than I could ever  _ dream _ , really.” He added, a little quieter, “Then again, I guess I never  _ did _ have a very large imagination.”

As Sameth spoke gently, and the lagomorph had finished his drink already, Maximus found his gaze wandering to the rest of the shop. It was partially out of curiosity, partially due to his instinct to people-watch while relaxing out in public. It was a habit deeply embedded in him - after all, back at home, if he had let his guard down, he would risk having his shit stolen from him, or encountering someone who had beef with him, because he had stolen something from  _ them _ . It was for that reason that he stayed as alert as possible - even with the amount of people there, he had to keep an eye out. It was not often, back at home, that others would turn an eye and ignore what was happening, but if one was around the wrong set of people, one could find themself in that situation more easily than they would expect.

It was a good thing he had bothered to look, too, because when he had scanned his eyes around a second time, not looking but slowly returning his gaze back to his canine friend, he had noticed some men quickly turn away. He had caught them, however, in that mid-second before they turned. He had caught them looking at Sameth. And suddenly, he had become aware of Sameth’s briefcase, which was tucked neatly under the table by Sameth’s feet. Had they been looking at that before he had caught them looking at the dog?

He turned his head away, as to avoid seeming terribly suspicious to those other men - the last thing one should do if they are suspicious of another, is to be suspicious to them in turn. He turned it at an angle, towards the windows, as to hide his furrowed brows from them, just in case they looked back again. There was not anything worth stealing in that briefcase though, right? Sure, there was a map, and some clothes, but-

Oh, what a foolish way to think. Had he already forgotten everything he had learned in life? Or was he just attempting to make excuses for this canine, who had been blessed enough to not feel worry for that briefcase, and allowed it to sit by his feet so carelessly? Attempting to make excuses as to why nobody should consider snatching up that briefcase? Anyone who took a look at that briefcase did not need to know what was inside it, or if it was of any genuine value. Maximus had stolen someone’s bag for the sole purpose of using it to pack up and leave - not because he could not make one himself, just because it was quick and convenient, and it could have been the difference between fleeing and getting stuck in Chile. The same could be said for anyone who would steal a map, a spare change of clothes; sometimes, the things that were smaller to the one who owned them held immense value for the ones that did not.

Still, though, he found himself extending a foot out towards the briefcase, trying to make it appear as a casual, subconscious movement as he hovered it in front of it, as though protecting it. Although Sameth seemed to pay little mind to his own belongings, Maximus thought it common sense that he would still be displeased if something were to happen to them. And since Sameth was so clearly distracted, he thought it only polite as to keep an eye out on his things for him.

“Maximus?” Upon hearing his voice, the lagomorph’s ear twitched, and he turned his gaze to Sameth, his brows raised. The canine, having noticed the other’s pensive expression, furrowed a brow. “Something on your mind?” He realized his error in asking that way, and said, “Um-”

Maximus was quick to keep him from attempting to speak to him in his language, placing a hand on Sameth’s sleeve and managing to utter a very awkward-sounding, “I ‘m good.”

Sameth blinked in surprise, and let out a surprised chuckle. “Wow. Alright. Good! Very good.” With that, he found his gaze being drawn to the window again.

Truthfully, Maximus had not wanted those men to realize that he could not speak fluent English at the time. There was an advantage to Sameth having someone else with him, and an advantage with the men knowing that Maximus had caught them eyeing him. However, if they received any possible indication that Maximus could not potentially warn him because of some language barrier, they might feel a little more inclined to make a move. Perhaps it was silly to think this way, but he had always found being overly cautious to be mostly in his favour.

Finally, Sameth downed his glass of water, giving a satisfied sigh. “Come on,” the dog instructed, standing up and gesturing to Maximus for him to do the same. “Let’s get back out there and try to find a decent place to rest once evening arrives.”

The lagomorph removed his foot as Sameth bent down to pick up his briefcase, and left his chair, following behind his friend. As they left through the door, he peaked a look over his shoulder, and noticed the two men speaking quietly to each other. Despite their low volume, Maximus’ sensitive ears could pick up what they were saying.

Quite a shame that he could not understand what it was they were saying.

. . .

There had been very few places that Sameth appeared willing to rest in - which, frankly, amazed Maximus in a very baffled way. He would have thought that given the dog’s apparent love for this new city, he would have wanted to sleep somewhere in one of the places that appeared opulent, with their polished woods and clean, thin carpets, with the promise of a large, soft bed. Maximus rarely cared to yearn for what he deemed as pointless luxuries - who cared where you slept, so long as you had a place to sleep - but he would have been lying to himself if he had not momentarily fantasized about sinking into a mattress.

Yet, Sameth apparently had no interest in those places, and settled for somewhere a little more unpretentious. For a man of class, it was becoming increasingly apparent that the dog had no interest in the overly fancy or lush, but rather seemed to prefer the more simpler things. Perhaps Maximus should have been grateful for that, in a sense; if Sameth behaved as upper class as he dressed, he was certain that he would be unable to keep up, feeling incredibly miniscule and paltry standing next to him. Which, he realized, he had yet to really feel that way since Sameth had provided him with his new clothes. Seemed that the dog truly had the best intentions in mind by giving them to him. For all of their wandering around the city, he did not feel as though he was being stared at.

The lagomorph found himself somewhat getting his wish, however, as he dropped his rucksack by one of the beds and flopped back onto its surface with a contented sigh. Sameth could not help the amused chuckle. “Comfortable, eh? Bueno?”

“Sí,” he mumbled tiredly. He sat back up to stretch out his back, his tail twitching slightly as he did so, before shifting to start removing the suit’s jacket, intending to finally switch out of them and back into his other clothes, having decided that they would be better off as pajamas to wear while not in public. “Caminando me da sueño.”

Sameth smiled warmly, deciding to slip his jacket off as well, making sure to fetch Maximus’ after the lagomorph had tossed it into the floor, and placing both on the back of a chair in the corner of the room. While Maximus continued to remove his clothes and slip on his older ones, Sameth placed his briefcase on the bed, opening it up.

Before removing anything from it, he looked up at Maximus. “Hey.” Maximus was in the middle of sliding his sweater over his head, but paused to look at Sameth anyway. The dog proceeded to point towards the door that led to the bathroom with a thumb, inquiring, “Do you need in there?”

Maximus slid his sweater down the rest of the way. “Baño,” he answered, understanding only the questioning tone Sameth had.

“Bano,” he repeated, his accent still as weak as ever, unfortunately. “Tu bano?” he asked.

The lagomorph flicked an ear, his gaze averting off to the side and back to Sameth. “...No?” he said, sounding slightly confused. “Supuesto que no es mi baño.”

“All I got was ‘no’, so I’m just gonna take that as a ‘no’.” With that, he scooped up his pajamas from the briefcase, and headed into the bathroom, shutting the door behind him.

Maximus’ nose twitched a little, before his confused expression faded a little in realization. He picked up his pants and started slipping them on, deciding that he would simply mention his thought to Sameth once he had emerged from the bathroom once more.

A few minutes later, Sameth was dressed in those light blue pajamas once again - and by the time he had, Maximus appeared to be curled up in bed under the blankets already. The canine carefully set his folded his day clothes neatly into the briefcase, then clicked it close quietly, kneeling down to slide it under the bed. He then stood, and began to slip into bed as quietly as he could, as to not wake his friend.

As the bed gave the smallest squeak underneath his weight, Maximus suddenly spoke, “Necesito el baño.”

Sameth looked up quickly, surprised - mostly by the fact that Maximus sounded very much awake. He had thought that he was resting for sure. “Pardon?”

The lagomorph shifted in bed, turning to face Sameth, the side of his face pressed into the pillow. “Tú-” he pointed at him. “Tú me preguntaste-” he pointed at himself. “-si necesito el baño.” He made it a point to slowly say the last three words, for they were the crux of his explanation.

“Necesit- oh,” Sameth realized, taking a moment to catch on. “Wait, so- tu...necesito...el bano?”

“Sí. Así es como preguntaría’.” Just to give an example, he said, in a very fake tone, “Oh, Sameth, voy a ir al baño-” He pointed to the bathroom with a questioning look, the same way Sameth did. “¿Pero necesitas el baño?”

“Ah. Okay. Gotcha. Necesito el bano. Or, er- necesitas?” He muttered under his breath, “God, that’s gonna confuse me.”

Maximus ignored his muttering, and propped himself onto his elbows, tilting his head. “¿Qué es el 'baño' pa’ usted?”

“‘Bano’ for me is a ‘bathroom’.”

“Bathrum?” The lagomorph put emphasis on the ‘th’.

“Bath.”

“Bath.”

“Room.”

“Rrroom.”

“Bathroom.”

“Bath...room?”

Sameth immediately put on a bright smile, raising his hands. “ _ Si!  _ There you go!”

Maximus’ own wide smile appeared, sitting right up in his own excitement. He could not help being excited when the canine was in joy for him. It was practically contagious. “Baño es bathroom!”

“Si, si! Yes! And bathroom is bano! Muy bueno!”

“ _ Muy _ bueno!” By this point, Sameth had started laughing - and to think just the night before, Maximus would have thought he were laughing at him rather than out of happiness - but the lagomorph found himself laughing with him, giddily waving his hands back and forth.

The dog eventually gave a pleasant sigh. “Well, I’m exhausted - and we’ve got a lot of work to do, so we best get a good sleep so we can start nice and early.” He then fully climbed into the bed, pulling the cover over himself. “Good night!”

Upon Sameth reaching over and shutting off the light sitting on the bedside table, Maximus understood, and replied in kind, “Buenas noches, Sameth.”

“Mhm. Buenas noches, li’l pal.” With that, the two got themselves situated in the beds, and promptly went to sleep.

. . .

Or, at least, Maximus attempted to. After the lights had been shut off, however, he had found himself unable to drift off to sleep. He kept shifting in the bed, attempting to get comfortable and failing. He felt this ache in his lower back from lying on his back, only to have it sink into the mattress. The other bed they had slept in the previous night had not been as soft, so it had not bothered him like this. Evidently, his brief fantasy of sleeping in a softer bed was beginning to seem less appealing.

His stomach felt like it was twisting, a feeling of anxiety rising up in his chest. Oh, he understood now - it was not simply the bed that was at fault, though it certainly was not helping him any. This feeling always did seem to creep in whenever it had grown dark, the silence shoving its way into his ears and uprooting the underlying thoughts that were dormant during the day. That feeling of longing that plagued him whether he was laying in bed or huddled under a bench whilst attempting in vain to shield himself from the drizzle.

As he turned so that his back was facing the snoozing dog nearby, he curled in on himself, gripping onto the blankets that covered him. He wondered how his family was handling his absence. Was his mother devastated by his sudden disappearance, so soon after losing her beloved to some mining accident? Was Josefa having to pick up the slack even more, now that he was not there to help them? Was Felipe crying for him, craving the comfort from his eldest brother that had vanished into the night? Were his aunts and uncles concerned for the future of the family, now that Maximus was not out there providing for them?

And for not the first time since he had arrived, he wondered - and he knew the answer, he knew it well, but still, he  _ wondered _ : Was it too late to go back? To return home, and to get down to his knees and beg for his family’s forgiveness?

It was during these bouts of yearning that he felt so incredibly selfish and ugly. How dare he be here, lying in a nice bed, in a motel, with these formal clothes while staying inside this grand city? How dare he be there while his family was back there, breaking their bones or even dying trying to put food on the table? How so, so selfish of him. And stupid. That was what Martín had told him.  _ ‘It wouldn’t be smart’ _ . If he ever returned, he could picture it now: Martín laughing at him - derisive, yet clearly trying to cover the anger or disappointment of him leaving, or the relief that he had returned - putting his scarred palm to the lagomorph’s forehead and giving him a light shove. “¡Eres un idiota, Maximus!” he would exclaim. “¿Realmente pensaste que funcionaría? Tan estúpido...” To which Maximus would tell him to shut up. Or maybe he would not say anything. Maybe, for once, he would just shut up and silently admit that Martín had been right…

Interrupting his thoughts was the sound of squeaking which, embarrassingly enough, made him squeak himself in surprise, quickly looking over to see a shadowed figure in the darkness. He heard Sameth whisper something apologetically, which earned a huff from Maximus, who laid his head back down on the pillow. However, he could not help but keep an ear raised, tilted towards the canine’s bed.

He heard the flicker of a wick catching light before hearing Sameth pick up the light from his bedside table, his bed squeaking before going silent, followed by quiet footsteps. There was then the sound of a chair gently scraping against the floor, and a small creak that accompanied Sameth sitting down. Maximus twitched his ear, and decided to turn slowly to peek at the dog over his shoulder. He saw Sameth sitting at the one desk in the small motel room, hunched over what appeared to be a notebook, a pencil in hand.

Furrowing his brows in curiosity, he decided to shift over on his opposite side, watching Sameth write, the faint scratching of graphite reaching the lagomorph’s ears. After watching him for a solid minute or so, he decided to hell with it - if he could not sleep, and Sameth could not sleep either, then there was no point in lying in bed and pretending. He kicked off the covers, and swung his legs over the side of the bed. He considered lighting the lamp beside his own bed, but figured it was pointless. He hopped off of the bed, his large feet lightly thumping against the floor, and walking over.

Sameth noticed that he had gotten out of bed, judging by the flick of his ear and the brief glance of his gaze, but he otherwise seemed focused on whatever it was that he was writing, the small yet brightly lit lamp being his only light source in the room. Maximus quietly approached him, stopping just behind him. He peered over the canine’s shoulder, looking at the notebook he was writing in, though he was not comprehending what it was that was being written. “¿Qué e' eso?” he inquired.

The dog looked over his shoulder at his companion. “Que is…” he said, the beginning of a question, before taking the pencil in his hand and miming a writing motion with it in the air.

“Escribir,” Maximus answered, then so that Sameth would not speak incorrectly, he said, “‘Yo escribo.’”

“Yo escribo,” Sameth repeated with a nod. “Mm, thank you. Gracias.”

“De nada.” His dark eyes wandered back to the paper as Sameth continued writing. “...¿Qué estás escribiendo?”

“Uh-” He waved his free hand, visibly trying to think of a way to say it that he knew the other would comprehend. Promptly realizing that he had no exact words in his current, limited vocabulary, he said simply, “Translations. Sort of like a, uh- a personal dictionary, of sorts.”

“¿Traslación? ¿Diccionario personal?”

“Si! Yes. You got it. I’m just trying to keep track of which words mean what.” Admittedly, he was almost certain that he was misspelling most of the Spanish words - which was, of course, to be expected. All he could do was spell it to the best of his ability through pronunciation alone. As he finished writing down ‘bathroom’ across from ‘banio’, his pencil paused, hovering over the page. “...Actually,” he murmured, pushing the notebook over towards the lagomorph, much to Maximus’ surprise. “You wouldn’t be able to take a look at this, would you?”

Though it was mostly dark in the room, the one light illuminated Maximus’ taken aback expression clearly, the flame reflecting in his wide eyes. Was Sameth expecting him to read it? He must have been, he was trying to show him what he had written. He found himself putting a hand over his mouth, and murmuring something incoherently.

“Maximus?” Sameth tilted his head, giving him a questioning look. When his friend said nothing, he said, “Repita, porfa?”

“No sé leer,” he mumbled an explanation, though a touch louder so that Sameth could hear. “No sé escribir. O leer,” he said again, having already forgotten he had just told him that in his current, somewhat embarrassed state.

“No escribir?” Sameth repeated, then, just to confirm his guess, tapped a finger twice against the page. “No leer?”

“Sí,” Maximus said in confirmation, then shook his head, and murmured, “No sé...”

“Hey, it's okay! It's alright,” the canine reassured him after seeing his discomfort, placing a hand on the lagomorph’s shoulder. “It’s nothing to be ashamed of.” He removed his hand, and pulled the notebook back over to him, taking a moment to quickly scribble down ‘read’ and ‘leer’.

Feeling somewhat reassured, yet feeling too awkward to leave the room silent, Maximus started explaining, “En casa, realmente no tenemo’ escuelas. No hay educación.” Sameth perked an ear, turning his head to look at him, a genuine intrigue in his eyes. “Entonces, nunca aprendemo’ a escribir. O leer.”

Though only picking up a word or two, Sameth hummed sympathetically. Perhaps this was him projecting somewhat, but he could sense that Maximus was trying to explain his reasons for being unable to read or write, nervously picking at his sweater’s sleeves, as though he had been put on some sort of trial and was now expected to justify himself. He could sense it, only because he recalled being in a similar position before. Actually, seeing the other bow his head slightly, his gaze to the floor, made Sameth’s stomach twist a little, a phantom feeling from a time long, long ago that still haunted him occasionally to this day.

“...You know,” the dog started, setting aside his pencil, and shifting in his seat to full face the other, leaning forward a touch. “Yo no escribir or leer.”

Maximus, of course, blinked, the sentence alone making no sense to him with the context of their current setting. After all, Sameth could not claim he did not read or write, what with what he was currently doing. However, once it had clicked, he murmured, sounding somewhat shocked, “¿No...sabías leer ni escribir?”

“Is that the way to say it? Alright. No sabia leer ni escribir. I didn’t always know, either. Took me a long time ‘fore I learned, actually. Even then, I mostly taught myself.” He chuckled, running a hand behind his neck. “Kind of nice to know someone else with the same deal, honestly. Makes me feel a little less self-conscious about my sloppy writing…”

The lagomorph could only stand there in silence, his paw clutching at one of his sweater sleeves, uncertain of what to say. He supposed that it was a little comforting, for someone like Sameth to be empathetic, but it still did not make it feel any less awkward. Eventually, though, he gestured to the notebook. “¿Puedo ver?” he requested.

Sameth slid over the notebook without a word, as well as sliding the light over so that he could see better. Maximus peered at the notebook with a visible look of uncertainty still, a thoughtful hand over his mouth, as though thinking that if he stared at the pages long enough, something would register. Of course, he could recognize that there were letters, and he understood that they were forming words. He understood that they each had specific sounds, and pronunciations, and if someone read off the word he would know it - but he would not be able to correlate what was said to what was written on the page. It had never bothered him before that he could not read, because he had not needed to read. Though, he had also supposed that it had never bothered him that he could not speak any other language, up until he arrived into this new country. He quietly supposed that his only reasoning for feeling so uncomfortable and awkward about it all now was because it was a rapid change that he had thrust himself into without thinking.

“...It’s hard, isn’t it?” Sameth suddenly spoke, making Maximus lift his gaze, though he was somewhat reluctant. “Trying to read when you can’t. It’s difficult.” 

The lagomorph’s ear twitched at the word ‘difficult’, understanding it as ‘difícil’. However, only understanding Sameth’s statement as ‘Es difícil’, he furrowed his brows in slight annoyance, waved a hand and grunted quietly. “Tengo esto,” he muttered insistently.

“Hey, I’m not trying to insult you,” the canine said. Though, of course, he could understand where perhaps Maximus might have felt a little offended. He seemed to be quite the prideful little guy at times, and mixed with uncertainty and, perhaps, even some insecurity, and it was prone to make someone prideful a touch defensive. “Here, let me try to help.” He slid the notebook back over to him, and quickly wrote something down. Maximus leaned forward to try and see what it was that he was writing, although he was aware by now that his attempts were in vain. When Sameth brought the notebook back over, he pointed at one of the words that he had written, tapping it twice with an index finger. “Escribir.”

Maximus’ nose twitched slightly, before looking down at the written word that the canine was pointing at. He pointed a finger of his own, holding it hesitantly, before placing it right beneath the writing that Sameth pointed at. “Escribir,” he repeated flatly.

“Mhm,” Sameth hummed. He then took his finger, and shifted it to the beginning of the word, and moved it along as he verbally pronounced, “Eh-scree-beer.” He moved his finger back to the beginning of the word again, and said, “Repita porfa. Eh.”

The lagomorph hesitated, struggling not to feel embarrassed enough to snap at Sameth. Surely, the dog was not trying to humiliate him. He did not seem to be doing this from a place of ill judgement or as an attempt to be condescending. He slowly dragged his finger over to Sameth’s, and mumbled, “Eh.”

Sameth shifted his finger. “Skuh.”

“Sk-skuh.”

“Ree.”

“ _ Rreee _ .”

“Beer.”

“Buh- beer.”

“Good! Muy bueno. Now let’s go over it again. Repita.” He moved his finger to the beginning of the word again, and sounded the word one syllable at a time, and again, Maximus repeated after him. He did this one more time, and on the third try, when Maximus spoke, he sounded a touch more confident. So instead of asking him to repeat, Sameth pointed at the beginning of the word, and said, “Leer, porfa.”

The lagomorph hesitated, and for a moment or two, Sameth almost considered telling him that he did not have to if he did not feel comfortable. However, Maximus soon pressed his index finger underneath the word, lifting it from the page and pressing it underneath the next syllable as he steadily pronounced, “Eh-scree-beer.”

“ _ Muy _ bueno!” The canine clapped his hands together once, resisting the urge to applaud and risk awakening the other guests of the motel. “You got it! I knew you could.”

Maximus could not help the somewhat bashful chuckle in response to the praise. He looked down at the word, and read it again; “Eh-scree-beer. Escribir.”

“Si, si! Wonderful. See? It might be difficult, but you’re learning already. Hell, you might learn faster than me just by me helping you. Took me a while just to learn how to pronounce basic sounds, but I didn’t exactly have much in the way of help back then…”

Though Sameth was speaking, the lagomorph hardly seemed to be listening. He was still running his finger along the word, still murmuring the pronunciation low under his breath. He did this to try and retain the newly learned information, of course, but there was also some fascination there. Though he had known the word for a majority of his life, to see it in written form for the first time was intriguing to him. He eventually snapped his head up to look at the canine. “¿Podríamo’ hacer otra? Quizás...” He scanned the page for a moment, just trying to look at his options, though he knew he would ultimately pick one mostly at random. He ended up deciding to point at one of the words on the line above the one he had just read. “¿Esta?”

The dog squinted a bit to look at the word that the other was pointing at - which happened to be the word ‘read’. He hummed, an uncertain frown on his face. “That one’s a little more difficult to explain,” he murmured. “I mean, I speak English, and it was hard for me to figure out...why don’t we start off with ‘leer’ instead? It’s a friendlier word for just starting out.” As he made the suggestion, he gently took Maximus’ hand, and went to move it over to the word across from the one the lagomorph was pointing at-

“¡No!” Maximus protested sharply, freeing his hand, and shoving it back into the spot he had just had it. “¡Esta!”

Sameth practically flinched at his friend’s insistence, blinking in surprise. He stared back at the lagomorph’s determined look, his brows furrowed deeply, and found himself hesitant to open his mouth, let alone attempt to tell him that he needn’t force himself outside of his comfort zone because of stubbornness and pride alone. After all, Maximus had nothing to prove to him - Sameth was, by far, the last person to judge him for not being able to comprehend everything all at once. “Maximus-”

“ No me importa si es difícil, Sameth. ¡Desafíame!”

The canine could only give a soft sigh, murmuring, “Okay. Okay, okay.” He pointed at ‘read’. “This one.”

“¡Sí! ¡Esta!”

“Alright, just repeat after me…”

This continued on easily for another hour and a half, though by no means were either of them paying any attention to the time. Maximus had already not been able to sleep prior to beginning this exercise, and now he could not have been further from sleep. His excitement was energizing him, and he kept pointing at another word, insisting that Sameth teach him that one next. The dog simply could not refuse - Maximus’ eagerness to learn was far too joyous for him to deny him. So, Maximus would point at a word, both English and Spanish, and he would repeat it until the lagomorph was able to pronounce it on his own.

“Buh-ah-nyo. ¡Baño!” Maximus was holding the notebook in his hand, and practically had his nose buried in it right before he pulled it away to let out a laugh, impressed and proud of himself. “¡Oye, realmente estoy entendiendo esto!” He laughed again, mostly in feigned mockery. “Y dijiste que sería difícil. Te dije que podía’ desafiarme, ¿eh, Sameth?” Silence. He snapped out of his joy, blinking, his smile falling into a confused expression. “...Sameth?”

His dark eyes wandered over to look over at his new friend. Surely enough, the Golden Retriever’s upper half was lying on the desk, his head buried in his arms. Maximus steadily raised an ear, leaning forward slightly. Indeed, he could hear Sameth snoring softly.

He straightened himself, staring at the canine, still blinking. He looked down at the notebook, considering for a moment to allow him to sleep, and continue practicing on his own. He turned his attention to the lamp, however, and could see that the candlestick was well on its way to burning out. He gave a small frown, disappointed to have his lessons cut short, but supposed that this was a sign that he should call it a night for the time being. Surely, it must have been late by now, anyhow.

He shut the notebook, setting it beside the sleeping dog. He turned, and went over to Sameth’s bed. He removed the blanket from it, and brought it over, dragging it slightly along the floor before draping it over Sameth’s shoulders. He picked up the lamp, and gently blew out the light. After setting it down, he readjusted the blanket on Sameth slightly, and murmured quietly, “Good ni-night, Sameth.” The only response he received was a slight shift from the canine, who seemed to wrap himself up a little more with the blanket.

Maximus cracked a small smile, and turned and went back to his own bed. This time, when he laid down, curling up in the sheets, he fell asleep in a matter of mere minutes.

. . .

The lagomorph awoke to Sameth calling his name in a tone of alarm, causing him to flinch awake and sit up in one swift motion. When he snapped his head over to Sameth, he saw the dog already partially dressed in his day clothes, currently scrambling to buckle his belt.

“Sorry,” Sameth apologized, having seen that he frightened poor Maximus awake. “Come on, get up, we slept in!”

He made a gesture for Maximus to get out of bed, and though the lagomorph did not know what it was that he was saying, he sensed the urgency, and threw off the covers, and hopped out of bed. He immediately dropped to his knees, shooting an arm under the bed to grab his rucksack. He sat up straight and dug an arm through it, pulling out his own fancy day time clothes and began to get ready.

“First things first,” Sameth was muttering to himself, “We go out, and we go and look for some work. In the city, they’re always looking for work. That’s what I was told…”

Maximus watched the other scrambling, heading over to the desk to grab the notebook that had been left beside the snoozing canine last night, gathering up his briefcase, unpacking things as though he were inspecting it just to make sure all of his belongings were in there. Everything about his movements were hurried, anxiety lining his body. Maximus could not help but find himself concerned, his brows furrowing slightly, uncertain as to what it was that had suddenly sparked such a reaction in Sameth. Eventually, as the lagomorph was tugging on the sleeves of the white button-up, he asked, “¿Es todo bien contigo?”

“What was that?” Sameth said rather quickly, sounding as though he had been caught a little off-guard, his ears briefly whipping his face with how suddenly he turned his head. “Si, repita?”

“¿Es todo bien contigo?” Maximus repeated, a little slower this time. When Sameth showed no sign of understanding nor clarity, he rephrased with words that he knew the other understood instead, “¿Es todo bueno con usted?”

“I- oh! Oh, uh-” Sameth momentarily started answering, proceeded to get distracted, briefly looked around, located his dark green scarf, grabbed it then finally continued as he wrapped it around his shirt collar and neck, “Si, si. Yo bueno. I’m just a little, uh, erm, mm...anxious? Worried? Nervous?” He was less trying to properly describe his current feelings, so much as he was attempting to find a word that, perhaps, translated well to Maximus’ language.

“¿Nervioso?”

“Si. Nerve- nervioso?” The lagomorph gave a single nod. “Nervioso. Yeah.”

“¿Por qué estás nervioso?” he inquired, struggling to button up his shirt, what with these slightly oversized sleeves.

Figuring that the only reasonable inquiry after being asked if he was good and clarifying his feelings of nervousness would be for his friend to ask about those feelings, Sameth simply started to ramble on, “I don’t know. It’s a new city, I’ve never actually job-hunted before - never really had to, I was just... _ given _ a job when I was eleven or so. Granted, I didn’t earn pay for a few years, and when I finally did, I’d have better off been given soil. Least I’d have a chance to find a speck of gold in it. Just one random bit would be worth more than almost the entirety of the amount that I’ve gained from my old job in my old home. But anyway, I suppose I’m just nervous about whether or not I’ll actually  _ find _ one. I was told that there were plenty of opportunities here, and I believe that, but I question whether or not they’ll have me. I’m only good for more physical jobs - I don’t consider myself smart enough for anything clerical or to do with business management - but I’m only so tall, and I, er...probably look a touch  _ soft _ to be a laborer. I suppose I fear that they’ll judge me incorrectly by my appearance and turn me away.” After having tied his scarf comfortably around his neck, he resumed digging through his briefcase, before pulling out a small wad of banknotes. He had more hidden underneath his clothes, map, etcetera, but he was not concerned about that; he always dug out a few from his small, but decently sized stash to shove into his jacket pocket, to use to pay for whatever expenses he would come across during the day, and - more importantly - to avoid having to draw attention to the fact that he held cash in his briefcase. As he counted off the money in his head, he continued, “And I suppose that, even worse than being rejected from jobs, I worry that I’ll be stuck in one that pays just as poorly. I would say ‘poorly or worse’, but I doubt that it could be worse. It can’t be - that would defeat the whole purpose of me…”

He at last stopped speaking, and slowly raised his head, as though he suddenly found himself coming out of some sort of trance. His focus moved from the money within his hand to the lagomorph who had been sitting there, staring at him, occasionally giving him a sympathetic nod. Sympathetic, but not entirely understanding.

“...Why would you even ask me this?” Sameth found himself murmuring - more to himself than to Maximus. He was not annoyed or irritated so much as he was just a little baffled. He shook his head, shoving the banknotes into his pocket. “You know that you can’t understand most of what I say - why would you…?” He trailed off, his brows still furrowed in confusion. He eventually just shook his head again, shutting the briefcase. “Mm, I suppose I should thank you for that, though. I haven’t really had anyone willing to listen to me vent. Not  _ really _ listen, anyway - they’d always mostly ignore me, or dismiss my feelings, telling me to suck it up or shut up. Tell me that everyone’s got problems; get over it...” He found his gaze returning to the lagomorph once again, who tilted his head slightly to one side. Sameth found himself leaning his arms on his briefcase, propping one head up with a hand, shaking his head yet again. “You probably don’t understand a lick of what I’m saying, yet you’re probably one of the best listeners I’ve ever met.” He paused for a moment, considering his words, then said, “Gracias.”

Maximus gave a short, surprised laugh as the thanks, but gave a nod and a friendly smile. “De nada. Espero que eso te haya hecho sentir mejor.”

“Speaking of listening and understanding,” Sameth continued, picking up his briefcase off of the bed while Maximus resumed getting dressed, having only his jacket left to put on, “We really ought to do what we did last night again.  _ Mmmaybe _ not quite as late this time,” there was a small amount of laughter in his voice, “But I think it was incredibly helpful for both of us. And as much as I hate to say it like this, the sooner you can learn to speak English and read and write, the better off you’ll be - especially in the long term. I ain’t gonna rush you, though; I’m sure for now, I can take care of us both. Well, that isn’t implying that you can’t handle yourself, I figure you can, you were doing it before we even met. I just don’t want you to feel obligated to place yourself in any awkward situations, I suppose…”

Sameth kept up this maundering even as they exited the motel room and checked out. And though the canine was correct in that Maximus could not understand a word, the lagomorph’s patience never wavered. Though Maximus was nothing short of a chatterbox himself when he wished to be, he still preferred to speak nary a word if at all possible. Besides, there was certainly something a touch mesmerizing that came with listening to Sameth speak so freely.

“It’s a good thing there are many places to sit,” Sameth remarked. “Because we’re likely to be walking for quite some time today. After all, the first step to finding a job is to actually find where the jobs are!” He gave a pleasant little laugh, evidently finding his statement amusing to some degree. Maximus merely offered a friendly smile. As the two left the entire motel, the dog said, “Let’s hope for the best of luck today, ‘ey, Maximus?”

“Aún no sé ni una palabra maldita de lo que dice’,” was all Maximus replied, giving an amused shake of his head.

“You always have a good attitude, pal.” With that, he moved on ahead, with the lagomorph following shortly behind his heels.

. . .

Maximus found himself sitting on the stairs just outside of a building, bouncing his leg idly in his boredom, his eyes beginning to feel heavy with exhaustion, the sun beginning to hang low in the sky. This was the - fifth? Sixth? - place that Sameth had entered, though the amount of time spent searching for those places had been far longer than the time that he had spent actually  _ in _ there, doing whatever it was that he was doing (he still had not quite deciphered what Sameth’s intentions were for this day). Obviously, complaining about how long the day was growing to be would not do much, he would admit that he hoped that this was the last stop before resting for the evening. Whatever it was that the canine was trying to accomplish, he did not seem to have any luck in actually succeeding. Sameth seemed quite determined, however, and however long he was willing to keep going, Maximus was content to keep following him. Though, by this point, there was no promise that he would not accidentally doze off while waiting.

His ear twitched at the sound of the door creaking behind him, and he looked over his shoulder. When he saw a flash of gold fur, he got up to his feet, turning to face the dog, who had his arms wrapped around his briefcase. The lagomorph’s tired expression changed at once upon seeing the way Sameth had his head lowered, the brim of his hat covering his eyes, though Maximus could spot the frown on his face. He seemed so...disheartened.

Maximus could not help but frown himself, his expression sympathetic. “Todavía no has tenido suerte, ¿eh?” he murmured gently.

Sameth did not react much to him speaking; he just kept his gaze on the ground. Eventually, his shoulders raised and lowered with a silent sigh. He unlatched one arm from around his briefcase, allowing it to hang from his hand at his side. He then finally raised his head, and lifted the brim of his hat slightly. He flashed his friend a smile - though Maximus could still see the hints of disappointment behind it. “Ah, well,” he said. “Today just wasn’t meant to be. Guess there’s always tomorrow.” He propped that free hand on his hip, his gaze averting to the side, his smile faltering. He stared at that empty space for a moment, appearing pensive, then shook his head and looked back to Maximus again, his smile widening. “You know, I could go for some food. How about you? Tu comes?”

“Podría eat,” Maximus replied, and gave a sharp-toothed smile when Sameth laughed joyously.

“That’s really good! Tu muy bueno!”

“¡Gracias!” he thanked him, then proceeded to say, “You are...good.” He paused for a moment, as if trying to think if he said it correctly, then nodded confidently.

Sameth nodded as well. “Gracias, Maximus. That’s very kind. Come on, let’s go.” He started walking, and Maximus followed behind him, naturally. “We’ll grab something to eat, then I’ll find us a place to stay for the night. Maybe we should even return to the motel we were just at - it was awfully nice, wasn’t it?”

Once again, the dog continued to speak, but this time, Maximus was only half-listening this time. The thing about wandering around an already unfamiliar city in search of work was that it had led them into a less favourable, less splendid area of the city. With the sun slowly beginning its descension, Maximus thought it wise to be a touch more alert - just in case. So, while he listened to Sameth’s rambling, he also kept a cautious ear and eye out at their general surroundings.

“You know, they all said the same thing by the end of it,” Sameth spoke, seemingly oblivious to Maximus being distracted, “They already have plenty of others working for them already and, you know, I don’t quite fit their criteria. If I did, they’d consider me, but I don’t, so they won’t-”

They had passed through one series of buildings into the next, and the lagomorph’s ears suddenly shot up upon noticing a man walking across from them, who were walking into a different alley. The fact that there were people present was not what had surprised Maximus - no doubt, they could find people wandering around and going about their business.

What surprised him was the fact that he recognized that man as one of the ones that he had spotted eyeing Sameth in the shop just yesterday - and the moment he had looked over at him, he had once again caught him looking before he quickly looked away in an attempt to not seem so suspicious.

Maximus felt a shiver go down his spine at once, his half-listening to Sameth coming to an abrupt halt as he suddenly moved ahead of him, his movements urgent. The dog did not fail to notice this, and cut himself mid-sentence to ask, “Maximus? What’s wrong?”

The lagomorph did not respond - he did not even hear the inquiry - he was far too focused, his dark eyes scanning their surroundings, his ears tilting this way and that to try and pick up even the quietest sounds, keeping his breathing quiet and even so that he may hear past it. There was the exit of their alley up ahead, there were trash cans, a doorway leading into a building, the scent of meat meeting Maximus’ nose, though he could not identify it. There also appeared to be an opening - a connection between two alleys - and he was quick to suspect that it connected to the alley that the man had just entered.

“Maximus?” Sameth repeated.

“Tenemo’ que dar la vuelta,” Maximus said, his voice sounding strained and urgent. Shortly after speaking, he turned to face Sameth, and immediately grabbed the sleeve of his free hand, swiftly leading him away from the direction of what he knew was a trap.

The canine remained silent, the sudden seriousness of the situation beginning to build panic inside of his chest. What was it that Maximus had seen that was startling him? He nervously glanced over his shoulder-

“No,” Maximus said sharply, making Sameth quickly turn his gaze back. “No mires atrás.” Not that he could blame Sameth for wishing to check behind them, to see what it was that was happening, but the lagomorph trusted his own abilities to be able to check without seeming terribly obvious, and at the moment, he wished to stick to what he trusted.

He continued to move at a brisk pace, not wishing to slow until he was sure that they were out of any potential danger. After a moment or two, he dared to check over his own shoulder - nothing more than just a quick peek. He could see the man turning down that opening, entering into their alley. So he was pursuing them after all.

He turned his head back, and started moving a little faster, urging Sameth to do the same with a “Prisa.” The dog had little issue with keeping up with his pace, finding himself hugging his briefcase closer to his side. As he should, Maximus thought - after all, his previous suspicions that maybe those men had been eyeing that briefcase now seemed all the more likely now that the man was pursuing them.

(Speaking of the men, where was his partner...?)

“Aquí,” Maximus instructed when they approached a new alley to go down. He led the canine through, and Sameth followed without a word. Maximus would admit, he was thankful that Sameth trusted him - it would be most unfortunate if the dog assumed he was leading him into some sort of trap when, truthfully, he was trying to help him. Again, just because he might have understood why anyone would commit thievery, did not mean that he was always content with the idea of doing it. Though, he would admit, he was questioning if this man had any further, more harmful intentions, given that he hardly backed off even when it was clear that he and Sameth knew that he was there-

Maximus had led the canine around another corner, so focused on getting out of the man behind them’s sights that it, in fact, became a distraction. So much so, that he had not seen or heard the other man that had been standing, waiting around the corner, until Sameth was giving a high-pitched yelp upon that man hitting him in the side of the head with a trash can lid. Had the lagomorph not been startled himself, he might have attacked his friend’s attacker, or maybe even swooped in for the briefcase that hit the pavement due to Sameth dropping it, the fine black case now containing a scuff mark from where it impacted.

But he did not do either of those things. He ended up standing there, frozen, while the man quickly dropped the lid and scooped up the briefcase, yelling to his partner that he got it, and proceeding to run in the direction of the stranger that they had been trying to flee from.

It was Sameth’s panicked shouts of “No, stop!” that snapped the lagomorph out of it, a realization flashing through his gaze before he furrowed his brows. He found his feet taking off at full speed without even thinking, not even registering the dog shouting his name. His focus was now entirely on pursuing those men and recovering Sameth’s briefcase.

The men had immediately noticed that he was chasing them down, and got right on trying to slow him down - starting with throwing down a trash can right in his path, which he leapt right over with ease. They tried to turn a corner, but they lost more momentum than he; whereas they had to actually turn the corner, Maximus hopped up, and brought a foot up to a brick building, bouncing himself off of its wall, much to the anger of the poor occupant that had attempted to leave the building, presumably after hearing the commotion of the trash can.

The real challenge became once the men had left the various alleys and went out into the open, busier area, where the crowds were actually beginning to grow larger, the swell of numbers coming from workers finally getting off of the clock, and heading home for supper. While the men actually seemed to be weaving through the crowds smoothly, Maximus was struggling to keep up, nearly tripping over others with his large feet, bumping into others. He bumped into one person, who got especially angry at this and attempted to block his path to yell at him. He peered on either side of them, trying to keep those men in sight, before finally ducking around the shouting person to move forward-

He was suddenly rammed into by a horse trotting down the sidelines, causing him to fall onto his side. The horse whinnied their surprise, raising their hooves, and Maximus scrambled to get back to his feet, fearful of getting caught underneath the feet of that massive thing. When they got back on all fours, they promptly shouted at him, “Watch where you’re going, bub!” (though, of course, Maximus had no idea what was being shouted at him), before continuing to trot along, pulling the cart of produce behind themself. Maximus recovered quickly from the incident, bringing his gaze back in the direction that he had last spotted those men, and continuing forward into the crowd.

. . .

...The sun had set, the dark night sky having taken over. The amount of people that were out was now minimal. Maximus had slowed right down to a walk, his head lowered, his brows furrowed in frustration. There was no sight of those men, nor Sameth’s suitcase, nor Sameth himself. Not only had he lost those men - he had gotten him _ self _ lost in the process.

He wrapped his arms around himself, hugging himself loosely. He considered stopping and resting on the sidelines in hopes of Sameth eventually finding him - but, to be completely honest, he had considered that about thirty minutes ago or so. Yet, he could not will his legs to stop moving, despite the ache in his muscles and the stiffness growing in his ankles. Maybe he was simply determined to keep going until he found those jerks that stole from his friend.

Perhaps he was just scared to face Sameth after failing to retrieve his briefcase.

The lagomorph inhaled deeply, and exhaled even deeper, though it did nothing to relieve the tension in his shoulders. He should have figured something like this would eventually happen. That his day or so of making a new acquaintance, of actually having shelter and decent food to eat and water to drink and actually nice clothing to wear would come to a sudden halt. He hardly had any luck leading up to this moment in life, why the hell should it have changed all because he met a stranger that bothered to give half a shit about him?

His pace finally slowed to a halt, finding himself swaying a little, unable to stay still but unable to continue forward, either. He was next to an alleyway - just some random back alley for a restaurant that seemed too fancy for Sameth, let alone himself. It was no good place to rest if it happened to start raining, but it would have to do for now. He was absolutely exhausted, physically and mentally.

He walked at a snail’s pace into the alley, each step suddenly feeling as though he had heavy weights attached to his ankles, before eventually allowing his knees to buckle, slumping against the building and falling onto his rear, not even bothering to unwrap his arms around himself in case he fell over. He heaved another deep sigh, feeling a wave of relief coursing through his body at finally having a chance to rest, though his mind felt no such relief. Slowly, he released his hug around himself, allowing his arms to fall to his sides-

His left hand brushed against something leather, which made him flinch, retracting his hand and snapping his head to look at what it was that he could have touched. It was hard to tell in the dark, especially given that it seemed that the shadows had taken favour to the wall he was sitting on, but he reached out carefully and started feeling it around. He felt the smooth leather again. He felt the squared corners. He felt the handle - which he noted was cold. It must have been left there for a fair amount of time for that to be.

He grabbed onto it, the motion swift as adrenaline began to work back through his veins, and moved to be more within the light. He did not even need to unbuckle the latch - it had already been done for him - and when he opened it up, he was greeted at once by the sight of Sameth’s map and notebook, on top of his pajamas.

He felt a shuddering sigh exit him, suddenly feeling as though he could cry from the sheer relief of finding the canine’s briefcase alone. He found himself closing the briefcase and shutting the latch with shaky hands, then scooped it up in his arms, hugging it close to him. His ears drooped forward, his head falling forward as well, his eyes struggling to stay open-

“Maximus!”

The call of his name in the not-so-far distance made his ears shoot right up, his eyes widening, all signs of exhaustion having vanished. He attempted to get to his feet, but found that though mentally he was awake again, his muscles were still very much sore. He settled instead for calling back, “Sameth!”

He could hear the oncoming, rapid footsteps of the canine, before eventually spotting a shadowy figure flying past the entry to the alley. After a beat, the shadowy figure returned to the entrance, then approached him quickly. “There you are!” Sameth exclaimed, the light finally illuminating his gold fur, shining light on his concerned yet relieved expression. “Good God, man, I thought I had lost you!” His ears perked forward and his eyes widened upon spotting the briefcase within the lagomorph’s grasp. “Oh my God, is that…?” He pointed at it.

Maximus’ gaze moved from him to the briefcase, and he then held it out for the Golden Retriever. “Creo que esto es tuyo.” Sameth breathed, getting to his knees and grabbing it from his friend’s grasp. He turned it over this way and that, trying to confirm that this was, in fact, his briefcase. “Lo revisé,” he said, making Sameth lift his gaze to look at him. Maximus pointed at the briefcase, and gave a nod. “Es tuyo.”

The canine could not stop the deep sigh of relief that caused his shoulders to slump. He found himself setting the briefcase down and reaching for one of Maximus’ hands, much to the lagomorph’s surprise, and shook it firmly a few times, murmuring, “Gracias, gracias, gracias. You have no idea how important this is to me…”

Maximus could only give a small laugh, patting the dog’s hand. “No hay de qué.”

Sameth put the briefcase back on the ground, and did just as Maximus had moments ago - opened it up, and began digging through it. Maximus decided to lean his head back again; after all, he had searched through it himself. Everything, for the most part, appeared to be there, and he assumed Sameth would promptly find out the same.

“Wait…”

The lagomorph’s ear twitched at the word, detecting just by tone alone that something was not quite right. He looked at Sameth, and surely enough, his once relieved expression was now wide-eyed - frightened, even. Maximus’ brows furrowed in worry, sitting up straight. He watched as Sameth began tossing aside his clothes, the map, the notebook, seeming to suddenly have little care for the items as they hit the pavement.

“No, no,  _ no! _ ” the dog said, increasingly panicked. He lifted the now emptied briefcase and flipped it upside down, shaking it a couple of times. “No, no, this can’t be  _ happening _ , this  _ can’t-! _ ” He dropped the open, empty briefcase back onto the ground, and buried his hands in his face. “No, please, no…” he spoke weakly.

Maximus was moving towards him on his knees, now, concern visible in his dark eyes. “¿Sameth?” The canine lowered his hands to look at him. Maximus was shocked to see that he looked to be nearly in tears. He reached a hand out, as though he was about to comfort Sameth, though his hand was nowhere near close to touching him, and thus just lingered in the air. “¿Pasa algo mal...?”

Sameth shook his head. “No...no, I’m not alright. This is really bad. This is…” He brought his hands down from his face, resting them in his lap for a moment. Maximus, though understanding that something was wrong, still appeared visibly confused. Sameth figured that, at the very least, he owed him an explanation - or the best one that he could provide, anyway. He dug through his pocket, and pulled out the small wad of cash that he had stuffed away in his jacket pocket earlier that morning. “They took this,” he tried to tell Maximus. “The rest of it, anyway.”

The lagomorph stared at the wad, blinking. Though back at home, they had no banknotes, by now, he was well aware that this was the currency around here. He pointed an index finger at it. “¿Tu dinero?”

Sameth nodded. “Yeah, sure. Whatever. Si, dinero.”

His gaze moved from what was in Sameth’s hand, to the empty briefcase, to the scattered objects on the ground. It then began to slowly click what was missing, and he put a hand to his mouth, and uttered a tiny, “Oh…”

Sameth, seeing that the other now understood his current issue, could only put his hands back on his lap, placing a hand over his eyes. He seemed so utterly distraught.

“...P-Pero eres rico, ¿no?” Maximus started stammering, his voice picking up speed due to his own growing anxiety towards the situation. “Tienes más dinero, ¿verdad?” He finally got to his feet, and he stepped over to grab Sameth by the shoulders, his arms trembling with temptation to start shaking the canine by the shoulders. “¡Debes tener mucho dinero! Tú tienes  _ mucho _ más dinero,  _ ¿¡sí!? _ ”

Sameth could only stare into his eyes with a look of both confusion and some level of hurt, understanding just enough of what Maximus said to know that whoever he had thought Sameth was, he was, unfortunately, incorrect. The canine could only shake his head, murmuring softly, “Yo no tengo dinero.”

Maximus flinched back, staring at the other with wide eyes, his nose twitching. It took a good, long moment for Sameth’s words to sink in, and while he stared at Sameth that whole moment, Sameth stared right back, the corners of his eyes beginning to grow a little wet. The lagomorph finally removed his hands from his friend’s shoulders, and found himself half-falling, half-sitting in front of him. Finally, he put his hands to his head, muttering, “Ay, no…”

There was no doubt, he felt nothing short of misery on behalf of Sameth. The poor man had seemed to have arrived here with some form of plan in mind, and just had the rug pulled out from underneath him, having a worse stroke of luck than even Maximus had. Actually, perhaps, no, it was unfair to say that. After all, this was the lagomorph’s own fault to some degree, yes? He had failed to rescue his briefcase in time; failed to stop the men from stealing from his new friend. It seemed that, if anything, it was more that Maximus was just some sort of bad luck charm, and had rubbed off on Sameth, who hardly deserved it.

The dog had said nothing, his expression remaining saddened. He removed his hat from his head, and ran a hand through his hair, then placed his hat back on, and got to work on repacking his briefcase of all its items, except for the money now lost. Maximus eventually removed his hands from his head, and watched as he packed back up, still neatly folding his clothes as though he was not living through a terrible incident, a heavy impact on his wellbeing. “Sameth,” the lagomorph spoke, an apology on the tip of his tongue.

Sameth merely hushed him before he could say anything more, shaking his head. “Nothing could’ve been done,” he murmured. With that, he shut the briefcase, clicking the latch shut, and got to his feet. Maximus copied his action, getting to his feet as well despite the persisting ache in his limbs. Actually, to be honest, his limbs felt numb. His entire body did, since Sameth had told him he had no money. The Golden Retriever heaved a deep sigh through his nose. “Come on, Maximus. Let’s go.”

Sameth turned, and proceeded to start walking out. Maximus hesitated to follow him, but Sameth hardly seemed to notice, as he kept walking on. Maximus willed his feet to move to follow after him, each step feeling heavier than it had when he had arrived at the alley.

. . .

When they had checked into the motel that evening, it had not been a relief - a time where they could finally breathe, as they were finally able to rest. It was solemn, with Sameth murmuring his words to the man behind the counter, then taking the key without another word. The beds in the room, though not too much different than the ones from the night before, suddenly felt anything but comfortable. They felt cold, stiff.

Or maybe it was just Maximus who felt that way.

They had been sitting in there for a decent amount of time, neither of them uttering a word. Sameth had wordlessly grabbed his notebook from his briefcase, and sat at the edge of his bed, and had been writing since. He had not even bothered to fully change out of his day clothes - he had merely removed some of his garments until all he wore was a white shirt and dark green pants, his jacket and hat hung up on the coat rack, his vest and tie stashed into his briefcase. It was only the scratch of his pencil on paper that kept the room from being overwhelmingly silent.

Though Maximus had been eager to get out of his own clothes the night before, he found himself also unable to bring himself to change into his old clothes; he simply removed his black jacket, and tossed it over his rucksack. He was sitting on the bed, pulling his knees up to his chest, his damaged ears drooping forward. His muscles ached, and he felt a chill, yet he could not will himself to get up and bathe in some hot water to try and feel better. He supposed, in a way, he felt that he did not deserve to try and make himself feel better.

The scratch of the pencil stopped, which made the lagomorph raise an ear, then look at Sameth out of the corner of his vision. He saw Sameth - whose back was facing him - straighten up, his shoulders lowering with a sigh. “Maximus?”

“...Sí,” he replied, monotone.

The canine shifted, turning so that he could look at Maximus. Maximus at least gave him the courtesy of turning his head, looking back at him. “I’m sorry.”

The lagomorph practically flinched in surprise. Why was  _ he _ apologizing to  _ him? _ He was not the one that had failed to keep them out of this situation…He tilted his head, furrowing his brows. “¿Por qué?”

“I don’t know. For misleading you, I guess.” He then turned away, hunching his shoulders again. Maximus moved so that he was a little closer to him while he continued, “You just...seemed pretty surprised. And maybe I’m just completely misconstruing something, but- I don’t know. I just get the feeling that you thought I was more well-off than I actually am, and...I’m not. I really wish I was, I wish more than anything that I was the person you thought I was, but I’m not. I’m really sorry.” He found himself laughing a little, though there was no humour in it - it was bitter, and saddened, and flat. “The whole point of me coming all this way was to find a better job, you know? To start making better money, actually  _ be _ a little more well-off. Just my damned luck that not even two full days into it, I…”

He found himself looking back over at Maximus, who was now sitting on the edge of his bed, looking at him with a highly concerned expression. Upon looking at him, it seemed to occur to him that he was, once again, just rambling away without actually being understood (or, so he figured anyway).

Sameth’s gaze lingered on him for a moment longer, before the dog eventually sighed, and muttered, “Yo no tengo dinero. Lo siento.” He turned away again. “I understand if you don’t wish to stick around. I’m sure you have enough problems without me adding to them…”

Maximus could only continue to stare at the back of the canine’s head, a deep frown spreading on his features. “...No te disculpe’ por eso,” he murmured to the dog. “No fue tu culpa…”

Sameth did not budge - his head stayed low, his shoulders hunched. A perfect image of a defeated dog, unable to do anything  _ but _ sit there with his head lowered. Maximus scratched the back of his head awkwardly, guilt continuing to fester in the pit of his stomach and spreading up to his chest - a feeling that was beginning to grow all too familiar to him. He questioned as to how he could possibly make the poor guy feel better, feeling as though he should say something, yet not knowing what to say nor how much of it would get through to Sameth…

“...Hoy fue... horrible,” he started, his voice quiet, his gaze averting to the floor. “Se fue a la mierda completa. Y odio no poder ayudar, porque no merecías que te pasara a ti, y lo siento…” He raised his gaze back to Sameth. He still had not budged a muscle. He had not even turned his head to look at Maximus. The lagomorph hesitated to continue, wringing his hands anxiously, lowering his gaze again. His frown deepened, and when he raised his head, he moved forward, and climbed onto the bed. He moved closer, and, shifting so that he was leaning on his knees, leaned over and wrapped his arms around Sameth’s neck from behind, hugging him close. He heard the dog’s breath hitch, his head raising quickly in surprise, as though he had never expected this gesture in a million years, let alone from someone he met merely a couple of days ago. “Pero no te dejaré, ¿de acuerdo? Especialmente no despué’ de esto. Dije que no estaría’ solo - porque nadie merece estar solo - y me mantendré fiel a mi palabra.”

Sameth shuddered under Maximus’ touch, feeling tears threatening to form in his eyes and spill forward. He exhaled a shaky breath, slowly setting aside his notebook and pencil beside him on the bed so that he may raise his hands to press them over Maximus’ smaller hands. He sniffed, his throat beginning to grow tight. He could not say much - he was scared that if he tried to actually speak, he would start crying and find himself unable to stop - but he did utter a small, quiet, “Thank you…”

Maximus gave a gentle sigh through his nose, shutting his eyes. “De nada…”

The two remained like this for a while, silence falling over them both - though it was not as overwhelming as the quiet had been just moments ago, but rather, it was comforting. As though despite how poorly everything was going, there was still something there to ease the tension from their shoulders and wrap itself around them soothingly. There was nothing else that existed, in that moment. No person, nor higher power to look out for them, nor a universe willing to cradle their damaged spirits to show them that the sun would still rise for them, despite everything. There was only them, and the four dull yellow walls that contained them. But in that moment, that was plenty. More than plenty.

“...Hey,” Sameth eventually spoke, causing Maximus to raise his ears, alert. The canine looked at him over his shoulder, flashing him a slight smile. “I don’t think I’m going to sleep much tonight, unfortunately.” The lagomorph merely tilted his head in response, then unwrapped his arms when Sameth turned to pick up his pencil and notebook. He turned back to look at Maximus, showing the items in his hand to him. “Why don’t we practice a little bit?”

Maximus’ eyes went to the notebook in his hand, before looking back at Sameth with a toothy smile, understanding exactly what it was that he was offering and, after that day, being more eager than ever. “¡No es necesario que me lo pregunte’ dos veces!”

“I’ll take that as a ‘yes’.” While he freed up his pencil and began turning pages in the notebook, Maximus moved so that he was now sitting beside his friend, his feet swaying over the edge of the bed. Sameth leaned over with the opened notebook, showing the words to him. “We can learn some new ones, or we can review some that we-” Maximus had been leaning forward to peer at the notebook, then decided to take the notebook from him altogether, earning an amused chuckle from the dog. “Hey, if that’s what helps you.”

The lagomorph read over the words for a second, before putting his finger over one, and looking up at the other with a grin. “Read!” he said confidently.

Another small laugh. “Guess you remembered that one out of spite, huh?” he said jokingly. “But si, bueno. You’re right. Now, do you remember this one over here…”

So the two spent several hours of their restless night seated on that bed, hunched over that notebook even when their backs began to ache, both teaching and learning from one another. By the time Maximus had drifted into a dreamless sleep, the light outside was just barely beginning to lighten up, the dawn slowly creeping in.

And, for the first time, Sameth did not mind the idea of sleeping in.


End file.
